


Kizu

by Quieta



Series: To Bleed [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Body Horror, Child by Rape, Childhood Trauma, Cunnilingus, Discrimination, Distant Parenting, F/F, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kitsune, Lesbian Sex, Maternal Instinct, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Murder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tribadism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:38:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 26,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4090783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quieta/pseuds/Quieta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My head hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

My head hurts.

I was sleeping the other night when it started hurting. It was dull, at first, and I thought it was just a headache, but it wouldn’t go away. Kaemi checked my head, but nothing was wrong. She patted me and soothed me, but I couldn’t stop crying. It continued for days. I tried to be a big girl and not cry, but it was too much for me. One night I woke beside Kaemi, tears steaming down my cheeks. My head felt like it was being split open. Kaemi was sleeping deeply beside me, and I didn’t want to wake her up, so I stood up. As soon as I got to my feet the agony hit me, and I stumbled against the wall.

I made my way out of the room. My head swam. The sound of the door sliding shut behind sounded obscenely loud, the _clack_ hurting my ears. I stumbled forward, making my way to my mother’s room. I wanted to cry so bad, but I knew if I cried they would come, and they would look at me, their eyes hard and judgmental and harsh, and they would tell me to stop crying and when I was gone they would gossip about me, using words I that I didn’t know the meanings of but I was sure were insults. I walked through the dark hallways. I wanted my Mama.

I heard laughter in the distance. High, joyful, hysteric laughter. My mother had been drinking again. I could smell it when I slid open the door, when I fell into her arms.

“My head hurts,” I sobbed, “Mama, it hurts!”

She swept me into her arms, giggling.

“My head hurts!” I repeated, frustrated and crying. I gripped her with weak hands, digging into the fabric of her kimono.

Mama smelled like sake. I could see several discarded bowls on the ground. Sakue was sitting beside her, one hand on her back. The other one was stroking her shoulder. “Misayo-hime, lie down, you’re wobbling…”

“You’re so cute,” whispered Mama, cradling my head. “If I just blocked out your forehead here, you would look just like an ordinary girl…”

I cried harder. Why did she have to remind me? I already saw it in her eyes when she looked at me, I saw it everyone’s eyes. I knew the alcohol had loosened her tongue, but I hated to hear her give a voice to all the things she surely must have thought.

I tried to stand up, but she had me in a grip hold, pressing my face against her chest. Through my watery eyes I saw her face as she looked down at me. The same crooked nose as me, the same dark eyes, the same round face but oddly sharp chin. But Mama looked older than me, much older than me, with wrinkles and worry lines starting on her forehead and the edges of her eyes, even though she was only twenty-five. I had asked her about that once—again, when she had been drinking—and she had glared at me, in a vaguely accusing manner. She said nothing, but I could almost hear the words. _You made me get old, Tamae. Raising you made me get older._

I knew Mama loved me more than anything in the world, but at times like this, I felt that she was the cruelest person on earth. I struggled to get out of her grasp, and felt Sakue grip me and lift me up.

“Go back to sleep, Tamae-chan,” she whispered in my ear, propelling me toward the door. I walked out, still sobbing bitterly.

As soon as I reached the hallway I muffled my cries in the sleeves of my kimono, walking slowly toward my room.

***

The next morning my head still hurt. I woke up hazy, with my eyes full of tears. “Maybe it’s like losing a tooth,” Kaemi said, comforting me. “When I lost my first tooth, it hurt something awful. But then Sakue Oba-san made me my favorite meal!”

I stayed in bed, my head buried underneath the covers, until Kaemi gave up and left the room. When I was sure she was gone, I got up and left the house.

It was midday by then, and most of the servants were working outside. Mama was probably sleeping off her hangover in her room while Sakue bathed her forehead with cool cloths. They were always together, Mama and Sakue. Like sisters.

The grass was cool on my feet as I made my way out of the household, over to the rocky brook. It was too close to our house for anyone from the village to ever go there, and too far from our house for anyone from the household to visit. Kaemi and I went there by ourselves often to play.

I sat down and reached into the water, watching the tiny fish dart for cover. I lifted a handful of cool water and splashed it on my forehead. As soon as my fingers touched my forehead they slid over a patch of skin that felt weirdly soft, like it was about to collapse. I touched it again, then dug my finger down. After a stab of pain that made my eyes water, my fingertip touched something sharp just beneath the skin.

I looked at my reflection. My forehead was a shade redder than the rest of my skin. I carefully reached up and stretched the skin over the sharp point, then pressed it down.

Blood began to drip down as the flesh tore. It felt like a needle was poking through the skin on the inside. I sniffled, more tears starting in my eyes, but gritted my teeth and kept going. The hole in my skin became larger, until a whitish point about half an inch tall emerged.

I touched it with the tip of my finger, then yelped. Not only was it sharp, it hurt when I touched it. It was sensitive, like forcing a needle underneath my fingernail.

I heard crackling in the woods behind me, and a voice called, “Tamae-chan! Are you here?”

I heard the crackling stop, and Mama’s voice right behind me, softer and gentler, “Tamae, I just wanted to say sorry. I was very cruel to you last night, and I just wanted you to know…”

She put a hand on my shoulder and turned me to face her, and her words petered out as she saw the blood drying on my face. She stared at me in horror, then her hand went up to cover her mouth. “Tamae-chan! Oh my gods, what… what happened…?”

She stopped abruptly. I saw something in her eyes shut down for a moment, and for a moment they got very dull, like the eyes of a dead woman.

She remained like that for a few seconds, staring at me with that empty gaze, then I grabbed her by the front of her kimono and shook her. “Mama, help me! There’s something wrong with me!”

My voice seemed to snap her out of her catharsis, and she stood up, gripping me by the arm. “Let’s go back to the house, Tamae. I know what’s happening. I’ll help you through this.” Her voice was strong and firm. I felt a wave of relief overtake me.

***

Months later, the last bit of skin flaked off me, and when I reached up to touch my forehead, my hands encountered two growths as solid as a tree trunk. When I looked at my reflection in the brook, I saw twin horns, ivory-white and curved, growing out of my forehead.


	2. Chapter 2

When I reached the age of ten, I realized everyone hated me. It wasn’t a revelation. It came gradually, like a cobweb slowly being spun.

Most of the household hated me because I was a half-breed, the daughter of the enemy. Kaemi hated me because I wouldn’t let her have any other friends. Sakue and Grandmother hated me because I had taken away Mama’s prospects of having a normal life. And my mother herself… I didn’t quite know. I could tell she did, when she looked at me when she thought I didn’t notice. I thought it had something to do with my conception, and the time she spent with my fathers, who had killed my grandfather and turned her into a different person. A woman who drank and stopped caring about the rules of society, who only seemed peripherally aware that she had been respected at one time.

I knew that Sakue, Mama and Kaemi loved and cared about me more than they hated me. I could see the love in their eyes. But I suppose you’re noticed you’re hated more than you noticed you’re loved. 

And the strange thing was, I didn’t really blame them.

“Tamae-chan, don’t squirm. Your hair is a mess, and I have to get the tangles out.”

“It hurts, Oba-san!”

Sakue sighed and put the brush down. “Tamae-chan, your uncle is coming with his family. You want to look your best, don’t you?”

I crossed my arms sullenly. I liked being able to dress up and put ornaments in my hair, but I hated having my hair brushed. I was always running around outside, so my hair got dirty easily. I wished I could cut it short, but I was a girl and I couldn’t do that.

Sakue picked up the brush and began combing again. Meticulously she smoothed the brush over my horns, hiding them in my long tresses. Although she didn’t say it, she knew that I knew. But I didn’t say anything either. Our relationship was one of unsaid words, one of silence. When mother drank and her tongue got loose, Sakue was the one who held me while I cried, who reassured me that she didn’t mean the words she said. 

Finally, after many tears and thrashings and soothings, I was ready. I stood in front of the mirror, gazing at myself.

I was beautiful. Sakue had accented the very best parts of myself, my pointed chin and soft cheeks. My eyes were dark as night with the shadows she had painted above my eyelids. Although I was young, I looked beautiful. I felt like I wanted to stay in front of the mirror forever.

“Come on. Let’s go wait for your uncle.” Sakue’s voice was full of pride. I beamed. She smiled and pressed her fingertip to my nose, then led me out.

***

“Sakue, what are you doing?”

The hard voice made me flinch. I knew who it was,

My grandmother looked at Sakue, her eyes hard and unforgiving. “The child isn’t supposed to be here. Take her away.”

“But I dressed her up, you can barely see her horns—“

“Take her away. I don’t want her here.”

I looked up at Grandmother. Not for the first time, I looked into her eyes, and she didn’t look into mine.

Sakue pulled my hand, led me into the hallway. She stopped in front of my room, breathing heavily. “You have to stay here, Tamae.”

“Why? Can’t I see my uncle?”

“No. I’m sorry, Tamae.”

She hugged me tightly and left me alone.

I sat by myself for a while, trying not to cry. Then I got up and slid the door open.

I looked out at the hallway, wondering whether to go and run off by myself or not. I knew most of the household were gathered in one end of the house, greeting my uncle and his family. If I ran, Mama and Sakue would be worried. But they were busy. I’m sure they wouldn’t miss me.

I wished Kaemi was here with me, but she was probably with everyone else, simpering over my uncle’s family and noble wife. I felt a wave of resentment. My fucking uncle, with his fucking upper-class wife, who he had been only able marry because of my grandfather’s death. Mama had talked about my grandfather, told me that he would have accepted me despite my blood. She had simpered, overcome with memories of that sentimental man. Rose-tinted, with blossoming memories of the man who I’d never known.

I took a step out.

“Hey…”

I started, and looked down the hall. A girl was standing there, dressed uncomfortably in upper-class clothing, stiffly cocooned inside her kimono.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Tamae. What about you?”

“Sayumi.” She stepped closer. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What?”

“You have horns.”

“So?”

“You’re an Oni, right?”

“No.” I felt familiar anger rise up in me. “I’m not. I’m human.”

“Okay.” She accepted it without question, her eyes not judgmental but curious. “Do you wanna play, Tamae?”

I mulled it over. I hadn’t played with anyone other than Kaemi before. But I was curious and bored. “Okay. Come on. Let’s play.”

We ran out of the house. She laughed and grabbed the hem of my kimono, and I swatted her away and ran faster. The woods were thick and dark, but I knew my way. I hid behind trees and she cried, alone and lost. I ran out from behind the trees and laughed at her, at her tears. She pummeled me in fury, still crying, but calmed down and laughed too, eventually. I grabbed her hand and led her to the brook.

“Be very still,” I said.

“Why?” she asked.

“Otherwise, the fish won’t come out.”

We were both crouching by the pool, still as trees. While we waited and fidgeted, the minnows came out. They darted like silver splinters, here and there through the water.

“Wow,” said Sayumi.

“I know!” I said. “They’re so cool!”

“Do they do this a lot?” she asked. 

“Yeah. If you stay still a while, they come out and do all sorts of things.”

“I wish I had a pool where I lived.”

“Where do you live?”

“In the city. We live in a town house by the palace. We have plenty of servants, but no minnows or pools.”

“I’m sorry.” I sat up and stared at her, my hands on my knees. “Fish are cool. I wish you could stay here and stay with me and the fishes.”

“Thanks, Tamae.” She grabbed my hand. “I promise I’ll come back here and come see the fishes and see you again.”

“Okay! That’s great!” I smiled. It was nice to be with another girl. I loved Kaemi with all my heart, but this was new and real. I liked it.

“Sayumi!” I heard a distant voice. “Sayumi!”

“You’d better go back,” I said.

“No,” she said suddenly. “I want to stay with you.”

I looked at her, at her pale face, at her eyes, dark as night, dark as mine. “But you have to go.”

“But I want to stay.”

The voices burst through the clearing. People flooded the brook, and the fishes darted for cover. Sayumi was swept up, crying.

A woman with very long black hair and a pale face like Sayumi’s came up to me and slapped me, her face twisted and soiled with tears. My face stung. I wept. The woman bore Sayumi away, and I was stared at and whispered about until Mama came, sobbing, and swept me up in her arms. 

“Ssh,” she whispered. “Don’t cry, baby. It’s not your fault.”

But I heard the humiliation wavering in her voice as she clutched me.


	3. Chapter 3

I didn’t see Sayumi after that. But that night I did hear my mother and my uncle arguing about me. Uncle Danjirou wanted me to be kept out of sight when he visited with his wife and daughter, but Mama kept insisting that I _had_ , that she had no idea I’d try to leave my room, and eventually she began crying, and Danjirou began apologizing, and I snuck away, anger and embarrassment roiling in my belly. Embarrassment at the trouble I’d caused, and anger at my weak pathetic mother, who never stood up for me and just cried and compromised whenever she was confronted about me.

I went out to the brook again, carefully stepping over the dried brush and twigs on the ground. The trees above me were silhouetted against the sky. It was a clear night, and the stars twinkled in the velvet blackness. The moon shone bright, lighting my path. But even if it hadn’t, I would have still been able to find my way. I had traveled here at night so often I could walk here with my eyes closed.

I reached the brook and knelt down by the pool. The fish were tiny black darts underneath the surface, but you had to look hard to spot them. I stayed where I was, chin in my hands, elbows on the ground, before I heard a voice that shocked me into scrambling backward.

“Hello, child.”

I stayed where I was, on the ground with my back in the dirt, gaping up at the figure that had appeared in front of me.

How could I not have heard her coming? Surely she would have made noise. The space around the brook was littered with dried leaves and twigs that crackled if you so much as touched them. But she had appeared almost suddenly, leaning over the brook with her twinkling eyes fixed on mine.

She was a woman, tall but youthful, dressed in a fancy embroidered red and gold kimono. I wondered if she had powdered her face, but no, she really was that pale. Or maybe it was the moonlight, shining onto her, that gave her the otherworldly pallor.

Her face was perfect, beautiful in a way that I had never seen before, almost unnatural in its beauty. Her skin was smooth, so smooth if I touched it I was sure it would feel like silk. Her eyes were gold, like jewelry, shining bright even in the darkness. Her hair was loose and flowing, over her shoulders and down to her waist, inky black as the night that surrounded us.

“Who are you?” I managed.

She stepped over the brook in one long sweep, moving towards me with the gracefulness of a swan.

“I am a friend of your mother’s.”

“Who?”

“My name isn’t important.” She knelt down in front of me, smiling a gentle smile. “I know you’re feeling sad and alone right now.”

“How do you know?” I scrambled up, tears starting in my eyes. “You don’t know anything!”

“I know quite a lot.” She stepped closer. She was right in front of me. She smelled lovely, like cherry blossoms and fresh rain. It was a strange mixture, but a nice one.

“I know all that has happened to you isn’t your fault.”

“But it is!” I wiped away the tears furiously. Her hands, cool and comforting, took mine away from my face. She embraced me silently. She was soft and smelled nice. She held me gently. And I felt more tears come into my eyes.

She picked me up and let me rest my head on her shoulder. She walked through the forest, her feet making no sound on the ground. I lifted my head. “Why don’t you make any sound?”

“Hm?”

“When you walk. You don’t make any sound.”

She laughed, a light, tinkling sound that made me smile. “I’m magical, Tamae! That’s why I’m able to walk without any sound.”

I pressed my chin onto her shoulder and looked out at the forest. The tree trunks looked like people standing, watching me. I shivered.

“It _is_ my fault,” I blurted.

She cradled me gently. “Tamae, nothing is your fault.”

I frowned. “But I’m an Oni. A half-Oni. I shouldn’t—I ruined Mama’s life! I’m a daughter of—of—“

She cut me off. “None of this is our fault. You didn’t choose to be a daughter of the Oni.”

“But—“

“You were born as you are. This is no one’s fault but the ones who raised you. Why should they hate you through no fault of your own?”

I was crying again. “Mama and Oba-san love me…”

“I’m sure they do. But they resent you, don’t they?”

I was surprised that she had given voice to the very thoughts that had been plaguing me. “No!”

“They do. You know it. The way they look at you, the way they talk about you. You can feel it.”

“No!” I cried.

“Why should you have to obey them?” she whispered, her voice gently encouraging despite her hurtful words. “What have they done to you but despise you?”

“I love them.”

“Is that so?” Her voice was quietly understanding. “So that’s how it is?”

“Y-Yeah,” I sobbed, my tears sinking into her kimono.

“Then you love them. There is nothing more to be said.”

She stopped and put me down. She stroked my hair, her slim fingers pulling through the tangles. I looked up at her and felt an urge to smile, despite my grief.

“Tamae, close your eyes.”

I did so obediently.

When I opened them, she was holding out a sword. I had never seen many swords in my life, and never touched any, except uncle Danjirou’s, which was old and beginning to rust. It had belonged to my grandfather, and he had never parted with it.

It was so beautiful. The blade was long and curved, shining silver in the moonlight. The tip was so sharp it seemed to disappear into nothing. When I touched it with my fingertips, it was as cold as a winters day and as hard as a stone.

“Take care of this sword, Tamae.”

It was as bright as the moon.

“Because it is _alive_.”

Her eyes shone gold.

“It is more than two hundred years old. It is a magic sword. It will defeat whomever you fight with it.”

She stood up and let of the sword, letting me grip it tight. The sudden weight was more than I expected, and I stumbled.

“You are a special girl, Tamae. A very special girl.”

With those words, she turned and walked away into the trees, her shimmering figure visible for only a moment before it was cloaked by shadow.

I stood there in shock, wanting to go after her, but too attracted to the sword. I looked down at it. It was mine. I hefted it in my arms, took hold of its handle. I aimed the point at a tree and slashed at it. I hadn’t put much force into the thrust, but it cut cleanly into the bark, like it was merely soft earth. I pulled it back, shaking and sweating.

I didn’t know what to do. If I told my mother and Sakue, they would take it away from me. But it was so beautiful. And it was mine.

As I held it, I could believe that it was alive. It was so vibrant, so bright, fit so well into my hands, it almost seemed like it was speaking to me, like it was telling me to wield it.

I shook my head, clearing those thoughts away. I set it down and walked to the big cherry tree that overhang the brook, and began to dig into the soft dirt by the trunk.

A bit later, I had dug a trench to bury my sword. I didn’t know where else to hide it. If I put it up in the branches, it would fall, or Kaemi would discover it when she climbed up there. I picked up the sword in my hands and looked at it one last time.

I could see myself in the reflection off the metal. There I was, ivory-white horns growing out of my forehead, my hair, so carefully combed and arranged, curled around my face.

All of a sudden, I felt a flash of hate. If I wasn’t allowed to look beautiful, why should I even be done up like this? I brought the blade to my face and gripped a lock of my hair, tearing the blade across it.

Strands fell to the ground.

I stood there, panting, a hunk of my hair missing. I brought the sword to my hair again and cut.

***

I watched my reflection in the brook. I was short-haired, like a man, with all the hair below my neck sliced off. I looked so different. I looked like another person.

I stood up, moved my shoulders. It felt so strange, not to have a heavy sheet of hair weighing me down. Girls didn’t have such short hair.

What would I tell Mama and Sakue?

I didn’t know.

Girls weren’t supposed to have swords, either.


	4. Chapter 4

I sat, shelling rice. The sun was so hot. I wiped sweat off my forehead.

The grass was cool under my feet. I felt like lying down and pressing my face against it, but that would stain my kimono.

I felt the cool breeze against the nape of my neck, now bare. Involuntarily, I remembered my family’s reactions to my new hair. Mama had panicked and cried, while Sakue had tightened her lips and not said a word.

Not one person was around me. Not even Kaemi. I didn’t know where she was. She had been absent often, doing something she refused to tell me about. I fell jealous and suspicious. What was she doing that she had left me out of?

I stared at the individual grains of rice. Each one was one in thousand. I gripped my stalk in one hand and began to shell again.

“Tamae-chan?”

The voice made me jump, and I looked back.

Mama was walking toward me in deep strides. I hadn’t seen her since the day I had cut my hair. But there she was, coming towards me.

She sat beside me, watching the grains of rice sift through my calloused hands. Then she seized a strand of rice and began to shell as well.

We stayed as we were for a while, shelling and tossing. It was strange. Mama had never come and worked beside me before. She rarely left the house. She was usually asleep during the daytime.

“You know,” she said, “I used to work alongside Sakue and my other maidservants like this.”

I looked up. “What?”

“Sakue and I, we worked alongside each other for a long time. We shelled rice. Emie, too. And Mareko. And Kaeko.” Emie was a village woman that Misayo was friends with. Mareko, I didn’t even know who she was. Kaeko was a midwife who always treated me very kindly. I had no idea she used to shell rice with any of them.

“For so long, we had done so. We were always together.” She paused, looking at the strands of rice in her hands.

“Tamae, I want you to know that I love you. Me and Sakue. We don’t care if cut your hair or anything. We love you the same as before.”

I stared at the stalks, the endless grains of rice. “Really?”

“Really.” She was shedding the stalks faster, more recklessly. “I love you, Tamae.”

“But when you saw me…”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Even if you look different, you are the same person.” Her voice was wavering, yet gentle. “I’m your mother. I will never leave you.”

I closed my eyes and let myself pause for a moment. For a moment I felt comforted, safe.

“Thanks, Mama,” I said.

“Do you want some more help? I’ve shelled lots of rice before.”

“Y-yeah, that would be nice.”

We sat beside each other for a while, our skilled fingers shedding rice. We did so for a long time.

***

I was thirteen years old.

I fought and thrust with my sword, when the night was black. I pretended the trees were enemies and slashed at them. When Kaemi came the next day and wondered about the gashes in the trees, I feigned innocence. I didn’t know where they came from.

Holding the sword in my hands gave me a rush of pleasure, being able to wield it made my mind fly, the heady feeling overtaking me. I loved the nights where I could sneak out and use it. I felt powerful, I felt secure.

Today was sunny. The sunlight sparkled off the edge of the water, illuminated the orange and yellow leaves that floated on the surface. I sat down by the brook and watched Kaemi exclaim at the birds. “Look at the clark, Tamae! She’s nesting with a male!”

“Does she have chicks yet?”

“I think so. She brings back bugs.”

I turned around. “I could climb and see if she has children.”

“Don’t. You’ll scare the mother and she won’t come back.”

I huffed and turned back to the brook.

I took a sandal off and dipped my toe into the cool water. The sunshine sparkled off the surface of the brook. I heard Kaemi let go of the branch and fall to the ground, then the patter of her sandals as she came toward me.

“Look at the fishes,” I said. “I’m telling you, they’re getting more friendly.”

“No, they aren’t. Look, they’re swimming away!”

“That’s just because I moved my foot! If I stayed still, they’ll come back!”

We sat beside each other for a while, waiting for fishes to come back out, and eventually they did, timidly swimming around my feet. Kaemi giggled. “They really are! Look at them!”

I smiled. “I know. I wish we could take some home.”

“They wouldn’t be safe back at home. Our koi fish would eat them.”

She leaned back, staring at the canopy of trees above her. Her face went slack and thoughtful for a moment. I was watching her, and felt unease erupt in my stomach. I didn’t know why.

“Hey, Tamae.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

I paused a little before answering, because the uneasy feeling had grown. “Sure.”

“No, I mean a real secret. A secret you can’t tell anyone, not like the time I ate all the rice cakes for Lady Okibu’s celebration, and you told everyone anyway.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I was really mad at you!”

“But you have to promise you’ll keep this promise!”

“I promise! I promise I’ll keep this promise!”

She paused to laugh. “All right, Tamae-chan.”

She leaned forward, putting her mouth right next to my ear. “I have a boyfriend!”

The words echoed through my head for a few seconds. I stood stock-still, not moving for a while. She had a lover. A lover. Kaemi. My Kaemi. Someone was going to take her away from me.

“Tamae?” her voice was shyly worried.

I snapped back to life. “That’s wonderful!”

She started. “You think?”

“Really! I’m so happy for you, Kaemi! I am! You’ve got a lover! I’m so jealous!”

I felt like the words I said were being spoken by another person.

She retreated bashfully. “Really?”

Ten years we had spent with each other, and yet she still couldn’t tell a false tone from a real one. “Yeah! You’re a woman now, Kaemi! I’m so proud of you!”

She laughed. “Thanks!”

“Tell me about him! What’s he like?”

“His name is Yoshito. He’s so tall and handsome… even though he’s a village boy, he’s so respectful and nice. The first time we did it, he kept stopping and asking if I was all right!”

We talked quite a lot between us, about sex and such. We teased each other. But this was something new, something horrifying. She had had sex. She had made love. That strange adult thing that we had both gossiped about, but remained strangely distant from, she had done.

“When did you do it?”

“At night, by the big oak tree. It was scary, at first. But it became nice, eventually…” she was blushing, her eyes somewhere else.

“Wow!” the words were so forced I was surprised she didn’t notice. But she was so caught up in her _boyfriend_ , she didn’t care. She prattled on about him, oblivious to the hatred that was simmering inside me.

“Whenever we can, we meet. It’s so nice. I love him so much! But don’t tell anyone!”

“I won’t,” I promised. My throat felt like dried leaves.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, the chapter has porn in it.

For days I waited by the tree. I crouched by a tree near it, staying still, crouching until my limbs became numb, waiting for Tamae and her lover to come by.

I stayed there until I was ready to give up, until I heard a rustling in the distance. After a while Kaemi emerged, constantly smoothing down her kimono and looking around nervously for her lover.

I stayed where I was, completely still.

After a pitter-patter of footsteps, a boy came out from the cluster of bushes by the tree, brushing stray leaves off his clothes.

He and Sakue stared at each other for a few moments before falling into each others’ arms. They stayed near each other for a long while, pressed against each other until they separated.

She leaned up to kiss him, then took his hand and started leading him into the forest. I could hear their low voices and occasional laughs until they faded away into the silence of the night. I crouched, my fingernails digging into my fists.

***

I stayed in bed all day. Sakue and Mama came to try to coax me out of it, but their efforts were in vain. Eventually, they guessed I was in a bad mood and left me alone. I stayed where I was, quietly seething. All I could see was Kaemi and her lover, hugging each other, their lips meeting.

Eventually, when Kaemi came to persuade me, I emerged, but my mind was light. I knew what I had to do. “Sorry,” I said. “I was feeling kind of ill.”

“It’s okay. If you still feel bad, stay in bed.”

“I feel all right now, thanks. I think I’ll eat something.”

She left me alone, and I had some tofu. While I chewed, I was formulating a plan. All day I waited, absent-mindedly shelling rice, making awkward small talk with the servants.

I waited down the path heading toward the oak tree, waiting for Yoshito. When he didn’t come that, I waited the next night. And the next.

Eventually he came, his hakama uncomfortably fluttering in the night. He crossed his arms across his chest, looking from side to side as he walked along the path.

I stepped ahead, waiting for him as he turned a corner. When he saw me, standing in the middle of the path with my sword out, he froze.

“Who are you? Are you an—are you an Oni?”

“No,” I said. “I am a spirit sent to kill you.”

He stumbled a step backwards.

“It’s useless to run,” I said. “I will just track you down wherever you are.”

“Please, let me go,” he whimpered. He sunk onto his knees.

“I will,” I said. “But you must leave this village and never go back. One of your ancestors committed a grave sin towards me, and I will never rest until I have killed the firstborn sons of your family.” I was quite proud of the story I had concocted. It was cobbled together from many tales I had heard, but was, I thought, quite original.

“But I’m a secondborn son.”

_Damn!_

“W-Well,” I said, but my voice was wavering. “What I meant was—all the sons of your family.”

“But you just said—“

“I misspoke!”

He frowned. “Do you even _know_ who my family is?”

“Of course! Um…” My brain was blank. Just who the hell was Yoshito? Kaemi hadn’t mentioned his last name or anything. “It slipped my mind,” I said. “But that’s not the point. The point is that—“

“Say…” He peered closer. “Are you Kaemi’s little sister? The half-Oni?”

And just like that, it was over. I let the tip of the sword thump to the ground. “Sorry,” I whispered. “Please, please don’t tell Kaemi!”

He approached me cautiously, then bowed. “It’s fine,” he said. “Kaemi’s always talking about you—how brave and nice you are. Well, I guess this proves that you’re brave, at least.”

“I’m really, really sorry,” I said. “Please—wait, she called me brave? And nice?”

“Yeah, she said she wanted me to meet you. She told me that you don’t have any friends except her, because of—you know.” He gestured to my head.

I looked down. “Please don’t tell her.”

“I won’t. I’ll just wait for her to introduce us. As far as we’re concerned, this night never happened, okay?”

I looked up again. “Really?”

“Sure! Until then, Tamae-san?”

I bowed. My heart was beginning to brighten. “Until then.”

***

“Tamae, this is my lover, Yoshito. Yoshito, this is my little sister, Tamae.”

Now that I could see him close-up and in the sunlight, I saw that he was a pleasant-looking youth, with a broad nose, tanned face and short black hair. He stood about a head taller than Kaemi. He bowed. “Pleased to meet you,” he said.

I did likewise. “Pleased to meet you, too.”

“Tamae, Yoshito has something to ask you.”

Yoshito blushed and looked away. “W-Well, I—“

“Go on! Yoshito, you said you would!”

He looked back at me, then scuffed his sandal on the ground. “Tamae-san, I would very much like it if you would be my friend.”

“What?” The words seemed to short out in my brain. “You—you want to—but I’m a half-Oni, what—“

“That doesn’t matter. Kaemi says you’re a good person, and that’s all I care about.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Y-yeah, I’d love to be your friend, Yoshito.”

He smiled and Kaemi cheered. “Fantastic! You two are going to get along great, I just know it!”

I gave a watery smile and wiped my eyes. Yoshito gazed up at the sun, shielding his eyes. “We should maybe go get some shade. Do you want to go rest by the orchard?”

“Sure!” I spoke up. “I’ll—I’ll get some rice balls to eat while we rest!”

Kaemi beamed. “That would be great! Thanks, Tamae! We’ll meet you there!”

They set off, and I turned to run back to the house. I jumped gleefully over the stones that lined the path, running as fast as I could.

“Tamae.”

I fell hard on my hands and knees, the sudden, knee-jerk reaction making my limbs fail. I stayed where I was, breathing heavily, then scrambled up.

“K-Kitsune—“

“My name is Tsuzuki no Sachijo, and you will address me as such.” Her voice was harder, harsher than I remembered, despite it having been years since I had last spoken to her. She stood, shrouded in her glimmering kimono, by the forests’ edge.

She didn’t look a day older.

“What are you doing here?”

“You are making a grave mistake, Tamae. By trusting this boy, you are digging your own grave.”

“But that’s not true! I’ve met him before, he’s nice, he wants to be my friend.”

“He’s lying. He’s a human boy. He hates you for being a half-Oni, just like all of them do.”

“But—“

“Do you know what he’s planning to do? He knows you have a sword. He’s planning to follow you one night and watch you dig up your sword, then he’s going to go to his family and tell them all about you. He wants to get rid of you so he can have Kaemi for himself. His family will tell your grandmother and you’ll lose your sword. Do you want that to happen?”

“No…! No!” I was crying. The thought of losing my prized possession, my sleek, gleaming sword, made my panic. “Please no, I don’t want to lose my sword!”

She bent down. “Tamae, I can kill him if you want. Do you want me to do that?”

“N-No…”

“Then you will have your sword taken away. And Kaemi will fall apart from you. She’ll marry him and leave you, and you’ll be alone. Just you, and when your mother and Sakue die, you’ll be turned out. No Kaemi there to help you, she’ll be busy taking care of her own children. Alone, despised, abandoned until your death.”

“I don’t want… that won’t…”

“It’s what’s going to happen, Tamae. Accept it.”

I drew up my knees and pressed my face into them. I wanted to say no, I wanted to say that I trusted Yoshito and she was lying, but the deep-rooted fear of losing everyone that I loved overcame me. I sniffled and said, “You would?”

“I would. I would do it just for you, Tamae.”

“A-All right. All right! Do it!” I was full-blown crying by then, humiliatingly sobbing in broad daylight. I didn’t want Kaemi to abandon me. But I didn’t want Yoshito to die, either.

I didn’t know what to do. But she was already gone.


	6. Chapter 6

A few nights later, I stayed silent as Kaemi wept beside me. Yoshito was gone, killed by a wild animal while he gathered firewood in the night. I listened to her sob, then closed my eyes.

Really, maybe it was better this way. Kaemi was meant to be my friend, and I was meant to be her friend. This new boy would have taken her away from home, away from all that she loved, and who knew how he would have acted then? Men were unreliable. I had heard Sakue and Grandmother, many of the maidservants say so.

Poor Kaemi. Poor little orphan Kaemi. I knew she liked to pretend otherwise, but I knew it got to her. I could tell sometimes she was envious that I had a mother.

I rolled over and hugged her from behind. “It’s okay, Kaemi. I’m still here. I love you.”

She sniffled and rolled over. “T-Tamae-chan, he and I… we were, we were, talking about… don’t tell anyone, please! We wanted to m-marry…”

Another sob drowned out the rest of her sentence. I bit my lip so hard it nearly went numb. If they had intended to marry, I really had caught him just in time. “Oh, I’m so… how horrible, Kaemi!”

“Now he’s dead. My beloved Yoshito!”

She cried into my shoulder. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Ssh. What’s done is done. The only thing we can do is move on. I’m sure where he is now, he loves you and wants you to know that.”

I rubbed her shoulder. Her face was so beautiful in the dim moonlight. The tears sparkled like the surface of the brook.

I didn’t need Sayumi, or Yoshito. I didn’t need friends. All I needed was her.

“I love you, Kaemi. I promise I’ll never leave you.”

***

“Tamae.”

I stayed where I was. “You killed him!”

“I did as you asked.”

“I… I didn’t want…”

“You told me to do it, Tamae.”

I took a deep breath, pressing my hand against my eyes. I didn’t want to say it. Even though I was glad that Yoshito was out of the way, I couldn’t quite shake off the guilt that infested me.

Tsuzuki no Sachijo’s voice was right by my ear. “Don’t be sad, Tamae.”

I staggered sideways, putting my arms out to brace myself. “Don’t do that!”

She laughed. I turned away, gritting my teeth.

“Tamae.”

She was behind me again. Her breath tickled my ear.

“You’re a beautiful girl, aren’t you? Have you begun bleeding yet?”

I had not bled, not once. Mama had been worried, wondering if something was wrong with me, after my twelfth birthday passed and my period still didn’t come. I was starting to mature, but my bleeding did not come. She was starting to wonder if it would ever come.

I tried to wriggle away, but she held my arms in my hands, pulling me backwards. Her body was warm against mine.

She forced me to face me. I put up a hand to push her away, but she gripped it and forced it away, her nails digging deep into the flesh of my wrist.

“In fact, if I look closely… you really do look like your mother!” she laughed, loud and low, echoing around the forest.

I struck out wildly, hitting her face, but she lashed back, slapping me so hard my gaze went black.

She yanked my kimono down one shoulder, then bent her head down and bit it. The sharp stings of pain made me yelp.

Finally, she pulled my entire kimono off, and held me naked against her body. I was terrified, and fighting, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little bit excited. I felt my… _underneath_ throbbing, my thighs becoming damp as she pulled and groped at me.

I was lying on my back, looking up at the night sky. She was below me. She laved along my slit, her soft tongue sliding along, her saliva damp against my skin.

It was _pleasurable_.

I reached down to pull her head away, but ended pushing it against me. Her tongue dug inside me, as her finger rubbed my nub. The sudden spark inside me made me lift my hips. I was naked in a way I had never been before, watching myself being spread open by an inhuman creature.

Her gaze darted up to mine, and her eyes were gold as sunlight.

It felt so good. My back arched, the delicious heat hitting me in waves. I felt myself becoming slicker and slicker against my will.

I felt her finger probe inside me, and the sudden pain made me start. I tried to sit up, but she pushed me down.

“This will hurt a little at first, but it will be all better soon. You’ll get used to it.”

She forced another finger inside, and I cried out.

She hooked them inside me, rubbing my insides, and she hit a spot that made me shudder and gasp. The sky was hazy above me, my tears obscuring the midnight blue. It hurt, but it felt so good.

She ran her fingers over my belly, my chest, until her hands cupped my breasts and she squeezed my nipples. I felt my breath catch in my throat. She pressed her face against mine, her warm breath on my lips.

She kissed me. Her lips were soft and warm, and her tongue danced inside my mouth. She was so close to me… another woman was so close to me, giving me such pleasure. I knew it was not meant to be. But then, many things were not meant to be. I was not meant to have short hair. I was not meant to have a sword. _I_ was not meant to be.

That sudden revelation made me clutch her close. I tore her kimono off her body, revealing her soft skin, her full breasts.

I grasped them, marveling at their pale softness, her pink nipples darkening as I pinched them.

“You are beautiful,” I said.

She laughed. She was surreal, her body shifting, from a human to an animal, something formless. I felt silky fur on my skin, the softness pressing against me, and her smiling face was a muzzle, and her gold eyes were the shifty yellow of a fox’s.

I leaned backwards, letting her dip her muzzle into my mouth. I tasted wet leaves, dark dirt. She panted. I felt tails brush against my bare thighs. I groaned. I gripped her shoulders as I quivered, and I let myself go.

She growled, her fangs inches away from my white throat. She gripped it, her sharp fangs digging into my flesh. I knew with one movement she could tear my throat out until I gurgled and died on the ground, my dark blood becoming one with the earth.

But then she was a woman again, her soft, warm skin pressed against mine. She pressed her cleft against mine, and I felt her wet warmth grind against me.

She angled her hips against mine, and I felt her softness press hard against my nub. I cried out.

My climax hit me, the heat erupting inside me. I closed my eyes, screaming out as she rubbed and thrust against me.

I hugged her tightly, pressing my face against her pale shoulders. “Sachijo…” I gasped. She laughed darkly.

She whispered in my ear, “Who do you trust? Some human boy, or me?”

“I trust you,” I said, and she laughed again, her voice a fox’s bark and human’s voice all in one.


	7. Okaju

When Makaze woke up it was still dark, and even though he tried to go back to sleep, dawn reached the sky before he was able to. His insomnia had been getting worse lately, which worried him. His uncle always used to tell him that in the men of the family, inability to sleep at night meant something bad was coming. Not that Makaze was superstitious. But his uncle had complained of sleeplessness just before he was sent off to battle, whereupon he promptly died. Makaze was not superstitious. But he didn’t like to tempt fate.

He reached for his battle armor and was confused for a moment when all his hands touched was his hakama. Then he reminded himself that the war had been over for twelve years. 

He dressed and took his breakfast. Midway through his little sister Satsumi burst in and told him all about her newest lover. He privately thought her to be too young for those sorts of things—relationships were tenuous things in the court, and court women and men could hold grudges forever because of them. His old friend Mamiho had been killed by a jealous lover a few years ago, because of some dalliance in her youth that she had completely forgotten about. 

When Satsumi finally left, he went and splashed some water on his face to wake himself up. He had been dozing off a few times while he listened to Satsumi. He watched the water ripple and still, and saw his reflection. How had he aged so fast? He looked about fifty years old. Maybe it was his eyes. People had told him he had tired eyes lately. He looked so different from the young, handsome man who had fought in the wars more than decade ago.

He shook the thoughts off and left the room. He wasn’t sure where to go or what to do. Ever since he was sixteen and joined the military, that had been his life. Court bored him. The bureaucracy exhausted him. When the wars stopped so long ago, he had been unofficially retired by the queen. It had been meant as a reward, but it felt more like a curse. 

“Okaju-sama?”

He started. A maidservant was timidly tapping him on the shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Her Majesty wants to see you immediately.”

He blinked, his brow furrowed, but nodded and set off for the queens’ chambers immediately. 

He felt uneasiness erupt in his gut. First his insomnia, now this… he was becoming wary. When the queen’s chamber came into sight, he was surprised to see a few other commanders milling about by the entrance. One of whom was his brother.

“Minehiro…?” he said, and the red-haired man turned to meet his gaze. “Makaze,” he said. “I thought you’d be here.”

He looked different, too, since last time he’d remembered. More ragged, with unshaved stubble covering his chin and bags under his eyes. His hair was loose around his shoulders—odd, he usually chose to tie it back. “You don’t look well, brother,” said Makaze.

Minehiro growled. “The Queen issued an invitation early last night, and it took me all day to travel from the compound to here.”

Makaze nodded sympathetically. Sleep deprivation was not a fate he wished on anyone, not even his vicious brother. “How is your son?”

“Akahiko? He’s fine. I left him sleeping at the military base. That boy…” Nanazawa snorted and looked away, his sharp gold eyes scanning the crowd. “He’s odd. Never speaks. Always hides away. I found him underneath the futon last night at dinner, did you know? I dragged him back to the hall, but he fought me all the way. He’s not talented with the katana, either. I worry.”

“It’s natural for a father to worry. But he’s half-human, surely he would be different from us.”

Makaze had only seen his nephew twice since he was born. Both times bothered him. The child had the red hair and sturdily-built body of his father, but his face had the same softness as Misayo-hime, the same dark eyes. But unlike his mother, his eyes were strangely blank and devoid. They were eerie, in a way. Makaze had never heard his nephew speak more than a few words at a time. He spent most of the time hiding behind his father, and refused to come out even when Minehiro shouted at him. When the boy bowed, he kept his eyes on the other person. Watching, always watching.

Misayo-hime… it had been years since he had last seen her. He knew he would probably never meet her again, but still sometimes he felt his thoughts wander back to the young woman. When he rested and tried to fall asleep, unbidden, he would think of her, her long, dark hair, her sloping shoulders, the way she sat with her legs folded. Her angry gaze on him. 

And his little girl, Tamae. He wondered how she was. More than anything, the sight of her little face haunted him. He knew Misayo was strong and that she would take care of her baby, but he worried about the child’s fate in the human world. Even if the child wasn’t his, he had promised her he would protect it. 

“Okaju Makaze!” he heard someone call. “Go in and see the Queen!”

Makaze nodded and walked up to the door, gripping the massive carved handle and slowly pulling it open. Inside, the Queen was seated on her chair, one hand rested on her chin and the other clenched on the arm of the chair. To her left, one of her lovers was combing her hair in the mirror. 

“Okaju.” She drummed her fingers on the chair. “I want you to become a commander again.”

Makaze’s mouth felt dry. “Pardon me, but why…”

“The humans,” she spat, uncharacteristically emotional. Her lover dropped her hairbrush and looked over, scowling.

“The land we ceded to them did not belong to them. And their new Emperor has committed a grave sin against us, by allowed his farmers to farm in the Karaishi plains, so near our border. They want another war. So we will give it to them.”

He supposed he should feel happier. Finally, this life of monotony was over. But instead, he felt foreboding. “Your Majesty, is this really…”

“Do not question me,” she snapped. “You will be leading a battalion to Jijunboro. Leave, and send in Commander Saraku.”


	8. Chapter 8

I shielded my eyes from the sun. I squeezed the branch with my legs, trying to keep my balance as I perched there, fifteen feet from the ground.

“Tamae!” I heard Kaemi call from the ground. “Come down here! We can find something else for Sakue Oba-san! Let’s pick her some flowers or something!”

“I’m telling you, I’ll spot it! Just shut up for a second and let me look!”

“You’re going to fall, Tamae! Come down!”

Ignoring her, I scanned the horizon, picking through the tangle of trees and brush until I spotted something I recognized.

“Aha!” I gripped the branch with one hand and pointed with my other. “Found it! The big old birch!”

I clambered down, grinning at her. “I told you I’d find it,” I said, jumping off the lowest branch onto the ground.

Kaemi crossed her arms, scowling. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I have chores to do, you know.”

“I’ll help you with them when we get back,” I said. “And besides, you know how much Sakue Oba-san loves raspberries. It’s better than just getting her some dumb flowers.”

Sakue had taken a tumble a few days previously and badly twisted her ankle. She had been in bed since then, attended to by Mama and the servants, but I could tell she regretted it—Sakue liked to keep busy, and it didn’t suit her to lie in bed all day. I thought some raspberries might cheer her up.

Kaemi, having reached twenty, was a servant now, and had a lot more to do around the house. She wasn’t able to spend time with me as often, but I had managed to persuade her to come along this trip with me. Despite her busyness, she still had a soft spot for Sakue.

“It’s going to be a little bit of a walk, but I’m telling you, there are _so many raspberries_. Sakue Oba-san will faint, she’ll be so happy.”

Kaemi balanced the woven basket on her shoulder and heaved a sigh, following me into the brush. I was used to clambering around and getting dirty, but Sakue had gotten a lot more domestic as of late, ever since she had become a servant. I could see her wrinkle her nose as a bit of mud splashed on her ankle.

“Come on, Sakue. You used to run around the forest with me for years. What’s a little bit of mud?”

“Your mother gave me these sandals. I don’t want to just tromp around and ruin them.”

“Then you should have worn another pair! Come on!” I jumped over a fallen log. She struggled over it as well, muttering under her breath.

The forest became more and more wild. Thick branches obscured the sky, and the ground was becoming damper and muddier. Rotting leaves crunched beneath our feet. I stopped for a moment and looked around, trying to get bearings on our surroundings.

“Kaemi, are you _sure_ you know where we’re going?”

“Of course I do! We’re right near the berry patch.”

“Tamae, in the name of all the gods above, if you’ve gotten us lost…”

“I haven’t gotten us lost! Besides, we’re right near Jijunboro, if we can’t find our way back we’ll just walk until we get there.”

Kaemi sighed again and shook off some leaves that were clinging to the bottom of her sandal. “Very well. _Lead the way_ , Navigator Tamae.”

We traveled deeper and deeper, batting away brambles that got caught on our kimonos and climbing over logs and rocks. My foot went into a fallen log that was particularly rotten and was soon covered with maggots. Kaemi nearly dropped her basket and went home right there, but I persuaded her that since we had gotten this far, we’d might as well go all the way.

I stopped to catch my breath, leaning against a tree. Harsh caws erupted overhead as a flock of crows took flight from a nearby tree.

“All right. Now I know we’re lost. Congratulations, Tamae. When we finally make it back home, I’m blaming you—“

“There!” I cried, pointing into a dense thicket of trees. “There’s the old birch! What did I tell you?”

I got up and ran toward it, only to burst out in a forest clearing. I stopped, confused.

I heard crackling as Kaemi emerged out of the forest behind me. I turned to face her, dumbstruck.

“Kaemi. There wasn’t a clearing here before.”

“Really?” she looked at the ground, scuffing it with her sandal. “That’s odd. It looks like it’s been used as a campsite or something."

I shrugged. “Well, as long as they didn’t take the…” My eyes alighted on the bare bushes by the big birch. “Shit! They picked all of them, too! Assholes!”

“Tamae, language.” Kaemi picked her way over to me, and stood surveying the campsite. There was a bunch of charred wood and ashes in the center, and patches of grass had been torn away from the ground, leaving bare dirt.

I sighed and stared up at the sky, which was slowly beginning to darken. “Well, we’d better start heading back. You’re right, we should have just picked flowers or something…”

“Wait.” Kaemi was bending down, frowning. “Tamae, look. Hoofprints.”

“So the campers had a horse with them. How else are they going to travel through the forest?”

“But look at all the hoofprints. There were a lot more horses than just one.”

I bent down to look, too. Impressions were scattered all over the ground. “Hey, you’re right. What were all these horses doing here, then?”

But Kaemi was already getting up and striding across the campsite. She bent down and grabbed something from a flattened mound of grass, holding it up to the waning sun.

“What’s that?” I asked, walking over to peer closely at it.

“It looks like a broken shaft of some kind. Maybe it came from a…”

“A weapon?” I finished.

She dropped it and backed up. “Tamae, I don’t like this.” Her voice was trembling. “It looks like this came from a military encampment of some sort.”

“W-Well, maybe it was, then.” I could hear that she was afraid, and I was getting scared, too, but I tried to keep my voice level. “So what?”

She turned around and grabbed my shoulders. Her basket fell to the ground and rolled away. “So what? _So what?_ If there was a military expedition, then we would have heard about it! We’re the only noble family for miles around, we would be the first ones to know!”

I was shaking pretty hard by that time, too, looking over the clearing and suddenly noticing how big it was. A whole lot of soldiers must have stayed here. “Who was it, then? Who…?”

She stepped away and shook her head, picking up her basket again. “I don’t know, Tamae. But we have to warn everyone else. This is serious. Something’s going on here.”

She began heading back into the woods, taking long strides. I ran after her, then paused at the edge of the clearing. I took one look back, at the flattened grass, at the mounds of scuffed dirt and hoofprints, at the ashes of the fire.

I felt uneasiness creep over me. I didn’t know why, but I felt rooted to the spot. As I stared at the clearing, I felt a gust of wind ruffle my hair, and for a moment, time seemed paused.

I felt a sweeping familiarity come over me. The scent of the horses, my mother’s hair. Bouncing along on horseback.

“Tamae! Come on!” Kaemi’s shout shocked my out of my reverie, and I turned to run after her. But the sense of uneasiness didn’t dull.


	9. Chapter 9

“So you found a campsite?” Mama’s voice was skeptical as she tucked the blankets around a sleeping Sakue.

I nodded. “But it looked like a military campsite, to me. There were loads of hoofprints around, and some broken weapons.”

Mama frowned. “I haven’t heard about any military excursions sent around lately.”

“Exactly,” said Kaemi. “So we thought we’d come and tell you.”

Mama grabbed a cup and poured some water in it. “Where was this campsite, anyway?”

“Near Jijunboro.”

I heard a clatter as the cup hit the floor. Mama stared at me, her eyes so wide I could see the whites all around. “Near Jijunboro?”

“Yes—“

“No. No, no, no.” She turned away, gripping her head. “Oh gods. Oh, gods!” Her voice was rising, becoming close to a scream. Sakue blinked and sat up. “Misayo-hime, what’s—“

Mama pushed past us, wrenching open the screen door and bolting out. I whipped around. “Mama!”

But she was already gone. I blinked and turned to look at Kaemi. “What’s wrong with her?”

She shook her head, looking as perplexed as I felt.

“Girls, what happened?” asked Sakue, sitting up. Kaemi turned. “I’ll tell her. Tamae, go make sure Misayo Oba-san is all right.”

I went out the door and headed toward my mother’s room. I could hear distant sobs as I approached, and I hesitantly slid open the door.

She was in the corner, hands on her head, knees drawn up to her chest. I had never seen my mother like this before. She was like a child, crying in fear, completely helpless.

I cautiously approached her. “Mama, what’s…”

“Stay away from me!” She screamed, so suddenly I stumbled backwards. She wasn’t looking up, still cradling her head in her arms.

“But Mama—“

“GET OUT!” she screamed again, and I turned and fled.

***

I lay in bed, tossing and turning. Kaemi was fast asleep next to me. She had told me that Sakue had gotten a strange look in her eyes when she had told her about it, and ordered her away too but refused to say a thing about it.

The curiosity was killing me. And that experience I’d had earlier in the day… I couldn’t shake off the sense of familiarity I’d had when I looked at the campsite. Like I had been there before.

I turned around and looked up at the ceiling. I closed my eyes. I needed to sleep. I’d deal with this all when I woke up.

Eventually I drifted off.

***

_I was on horseback. I was so far above everything, I laughed and waved my arms. The gentle bounce of the horse’s back was comforting. I felt like I was up in the fluffy clouds._

_I felt the softness of the swaddling cloth wrap me tight, and the warmth of my mother’s arm encircle me. I saw my Mama’s face. She looked so young and beautiful, with clear, smooth skin and rosy lips. She was smiling as she cradled me._

_A saw another man’s face. At least, it might have been a man. He reached down and cupped my face, smiling. He had horns jutting out of his forehead._

_I was in a bare room. My mother looked haggard. She was crying. I became scared and started sobbing, too._

_I was in a dark place. But there was someone there with me._

I woke up with a scream in my throat and sweat cascading down my neck. I tried to get my breathing under control. The images kept flashing through my mind, so vivid and so familiar that I couldn’t just dismiss them as dreams.

I felt the same sensation as I had when I was in the abandoned camp. But this time I knew why had felt that way.

They were memories. And the sight of the clearing had brought them back.

The Oni had stayed there for the night.

I threw off the covers and rolled out of bed, dressing hurriedly in the darkness. I pulled on my kimono, still stained with mud from yesterday’s forest trip.

I needed to return.

The memories had awoken something inside me, something unstable and longing. I wanted to now more. I needed to know more.

I left the room quietly, shutting the door as softly as I could. I tiptoed along the hallway. I was practiced from nights spent sneaking out to spend time by the brook. No one woke.

My mother had always warned me not to go any farther than the brook, because I might be attacked and killed by villagers and bandits. But I needed to visit the campsite this time. I needed to bring back more memories.

If it had been frightening traveling the forest in the day, it was ten times more so at night. Every rustle of leaves was a lurking soldier, every scuffle in the darkness was a bandit ready to pounce. Every step I took carried me farther and farther away from home. The darkness swathed me.

I was walking blind. The thick canopy of trees blocked the moonlight, and I had only the memory of the path to carry me.

I gripped a tree and pulled myself up, branch over branch. The rough bark ripped my kimono, but I didn’t care.

I stared across the sea of trees, trying to find the old birch, but the darkness made it impossible, even with the sun beaming down on the tops of the trees like a silver veil.

I think I spotted it and clambered down. As I jumped off the last branch, I felt something sharp pierce my foot, but didn’t pay it any mind. If I would limp the rest of the way, then I would limp.

I staggered along the path, keeping my weight off my right foot. I would pull the splinter out later, when it was light.

The darkness seemed to close in on me, reaching out with dark tendrils to snag me. I kept my feet on the path, but I tripped over rocks and logs. I think they were the same ones I saw earlier in the day. I hoped they were.

Even if I walked all night, I would be happy if I found the camp. I needed to find it. I needed to look at it, tread on it again. I wanted to find something.

I didn’t quite know why I was doing this. I had never given much thought to my fathers. Rather, I tried not to think about them. No one had spoken of them in the house. Whenever I asked questions, all that met me was oppressive silence. I tried to purge my mind of it. But this brought it all back.

For the first time in my life, I wanted to _know_.

I tripped over a rock and fell on my hands and knees, breathing hard. I heard the echoes of the insects around me, the cries of night birds, the rustles in the bushes.

I thought of my mother, sobbing like a child in the corner of her room.

_I’m sorry, Mama._

I got up and began to run.

***

_Tamae._

The voice reverberated through my head, a sultry whisper that made me stop in my tracks.

_Aren’t you forgetting something?_

My eyes were pulled from the dark tangle of forest to a brook, the waters flowing like white silver over the dark soil.

On the other side of the brook stood a tall woman, draped in a shimmering kimono. Her face seemed to be made of moonlight, her hair the inky blackness of the surrounding forest. At once, she seemed to be one with the forest, her kimono as bright and soft as a fox’s coat, her eyes the burning gold of a stalking vulpine.

She smiled, and her mouth was filled with dripping, cavernous fangs.

She held out a sword the color of winter’s chill, the color of a purest moonbeam. And as I saw the deadly, curved blade, as my fingers touched the hard, carved handle, the voice spoke again in my head.

_Take me with you and never let me go. We are destined for great things, you and I._


	10. Chapter 10

My sword was wrapped securely in the folds of my kimono, the flat blade pressed against my flesh. If I angled it a certain way, it looked like just another fold of the cloth. However, I couldn’t help but shiver when the edge slid against my skin, as if just a minute amount of pressure would split my ribcage open.

There was a dim glow in the distance. I stopped where I was, breathing heavily, my eyes trained on the glowing light. Each breath up and down pressed the tip of the sword to my ribcage.

Perhaps it was a traveler settling down for the night. Excellent, I needed directions. And maybe these travelers would have a little food for me—after all, I hadn’t had dinner.

I began walking slowly toward the light, my foot aching, my body exhausted. I really hadn’t noticed how tired I was until now.

I heard echoed voices. More than one traveler. My mother always told me, be careful of more than one man. So I crept carefully.

I heard the voices getting louder. Laughs and shouts.

As I approached, I saw figures moving by a fire. They shifted, chatting. I crouched behind a tree and peered out at them.

They had horns.

Men with vivid hair, black and red and yellow and brown, sat around the fire, eating and talking. Horns sprouted from their heads, spiraling and curved and straight.

Just like me.

I felt myself freeze, my breaths coming in short gasps. I shivered where I was, clutching the trunk of the tree with my hands.

I saw the Oni, I saw the _enemy_ , and yet I saw my fathers.

Grandfather was to Mama, Uncle Danjirou was to Sayumi. They were the distant relations, the men, the fathers that always seemed out of sight. Kaemi didn’t have a father, and neither did I. We were a household of women. But I had always wondered. Always wondered.

The Oni were an unspoken ghost that haunted the house, but I knew snitches and snatches about them—how could I not, when we were still recovering from a disastrous war with them? There were still burn marks on the west side of the house. I knew that they had ravaged the land, killed the people, left my mother pregnant, but they always seemed so distant to me. Were they my fathers or my enemies? I didn’t know how to think about them, so I didn’t think about them at all.

“Hey! What are you doing out here?”

I started, nearly fell over. My fearful eyes found a man, katana strapped to his back, standing a dozen feet in front of me. He had short dark hair and a strong build, spiralling white horns growing out of his brow. He stepped towards me.

“Son, you’d better come back to camp. It’s dark out here, you could get lost.”

I scrambled to my feet and tried to back away, but the fear made me sluggish. He stepped forward and grabbed me easily.

“What the hell are you doing?” he snarled. “You’d better…”

“Let go of me!” I cried, my voice high and frightened. I struggled, trying to wrench my arms out of his grasp. My hand dove inside my kimono, and I pulled out my sword.

Gasping in shock, he stepped away, but his eyes were fixed on my chest, a sudden surprise seeping into his gaze. His voice faded away.

I looked down. As I had unsheathed my sword, the top of my kimono had become undone, and tops of my two small breasts had become visible.

He was still looking down at my chest now, his face stunned. I felt redness and horror seep into my face, and I held my sword steady.

“Little sister, what are you doing here?” he asked, his tone horrified.

“I…I…” I was frozen in place, my body limp. His hand shot out, gripping my trembling wrist. Shocked, I nearly dropped my sword. As quick as a flash, his other hand shot out and my sword was ripped from my grasp to clatter on the ground.

Cursing myself for freezing up, I writhed in his grip, trying to get free so I could get my sword again.

But instead he me dragged me out of the bushes, into the firelight.

“I found a little sister!” the man shouted.

The men all looked at me for a second, frozen, then got up, dropping their weapons and bowls of food. They all looked so concerned.

“What are you doing here, little sister?”

“Where are your parents?”

I cried, lashing out. All these strange men terrified me. I thrashed, trying to break his hold, but he held fast.

The fear nearly made me go limp. I was afraid of what these men would do to me. I fought out, until I heard a loud, commanding voice rise above the clamor.

“What’s going on?”

A man was striding towards us. By the look of him I could immediately tell he was a leader. He had the poise of one, the air of a commander. He was tall and wiry, with long pale hair and yellow eyes that glittered in the firelight. He was about middle-aged, with tired-looking eyes ( _like mama_ ), and a downturned mouth. The light shone off the katana slung across his back.

“Who are you?” he demanded, staring at me. “What is an Oni child like you doing so far into human territory? Are you following your father?”

“I’m not an Oni!” I wept. “I’m a human! Let me go! I’ll go home, I promise I’ll never bother you again, just….”

“What’s your name? What about your parents? Where are they?”

“I’m Tamae. My parents don’t know I’m…”

“Wait.” His voice was monotone. “What did you say your name was?”

“Tamae. My parents—“

“Tamae. Is your mother’s name Misayo?”

I stopped, looking up at the white-haired man. “Yes. H-How did you know—“

By my words were muffled as he swept me into his arms.

***

I sat by the fire, tears in my eyes. They kept offering me bowls of rice and meat, but I kept refusing them.

“Eat,” persuaded the white-haired Oni. “You must keep your strength up.”

I shook my head tearfully and turned my head away.

The men muttered and quarreled with each other, until the white-haired one asked me where my mother was.

“She lives at home,” I said. I buried my face in my legs.

He shook me. “I must know where your mother is. Tell me, Tamae.”

I hid my face, crying.

“Tell me, Tamae, and maybe I’ll be able to contact your mother. Maybe you’ll be able to go home.”

I looked up, tears in my eyes. “You’re tricking me,” I hiccupped. “I’ll tell you where she is and you’ll… you’ll do something bad to her, I know you will.”

The Oni averted his eyes. I clenched my fists. “How do you know my mother’s name?” I demanded. Tell me!”

He sat back and folded his hands in his sleeves. “I knew your mother when she lived among us in our city.”

I stared at him, eyes wide. “What…?”

“Did your mother not tell you that she lived with us?”

“Yes, she did, but she never spoke much… about… _who are you?”_ I blurted. “Who were you to her? Why did you hug me when you saw me? Are you… are you…”

The revelation crept up on me like ice. I felt shivers start along my shoulders, and I dug my fingers into my palms so hard they began to ache. “Are you my…” The words petered out before they could reach my mouth.

He was silent for a while, his eyes unreadable. “No,” he said finally, and I could tell by his tone he didn’t want any more questions. Although I burned with curiosity, I looked down and didn’t say any more.

I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Tamae. Tell me where your mother is. We will find her house anyway, but if you tell us where it is, we will spare your household. How does that sound?”

I wanted to say, _that sounds fucking terrible either way,_ but instead I swallowed thickly. “Will you leave them all alone?”

He paused for a few seconds, then said, “Yes.”

His proclamation was met with groans from the men, and some shouted complaints. “Okaju-sama, we were hoping to have some fun!”

“Silence,” the white-haired Oni—Okaju?— snarled, and they quieted down immediately.

He looked back at me. “Well?”

“Only if you spare the village as well.” I felt my voice didn’t even belong to me, like I wasn’t really arguing for the lives of all the people close to me. Like I wasn’t sitting in front of someone who could have killed me with a movement, who could destroy everything I’d ever known without blinking.

“Very well,” he said. I let out a sigh of relief.

“But.”

I looked up. “In return, you must promise to stay with us. Will you promise me that?”

“Stay with you? With your battalion?”

“With us, the Oni. You must live with us for the rest of your life.”

My mind was screaming, but I was silent. My lips wanted to move, but they remained still. I looked at the man in front of me, the firelight glinting of his eyes, yellow as amber but not quite as gold as Sachijo’s.

He reached out and cradled my cheek in his hand.

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because you are one of us, Tamae.” His voice was low, barely audible. “You belong with us. You are our child.”

His hand was cold on my face, despite the warmth of the firelight. I stared up at him, the tears dripping down my cheeks. But strangely, I didn’t feel sad.

For the briefest moment, I felt happy. To hear the words, _you are one of us._


	11. Chapter 11

Minehiro came back late and in a bad temper, not finding anything to eat and only a little amount of firewood. He deeply resented being forced to go on supply expeditions, when he should be back the camp relaxing. Just because he had been disgraced once, had his hair cut and been sent back to the barracks with the jeering of his fellow shoulders in his ears, did not mean he should be treated as a servant for the rest of his life.

Just the memory made him grit his teeth, the loud laughter of the other soldiers ringing in his head. He sped up, gripping the wood so hard it almost splintered.

The pattering of footsteps behind him made him realize he had been going too fast, and he slowed down to let his son catch up. “Walk faster,” he growled at him, and the boy nodded and quickly came up to pace with him.

Minehiro had been happy when he was sent to war. Very few of his comrades had been unhappy either, most of them rejoicing at the chance to take up their arms. But he had worried, of course. About Akahiko.

Akahiko was a strange child. Perhaps his half-human ancestry explained some of his behavior, but still some of it seemed odd enough even with that in mind. The boy’s hands trembled when they held a katana. His nerve failed when he faced an opponent and he became motionless, staring like a deer faced with an arrow, his hands limp at his sides. Minehiro had scolded him, shouted at him, hit him, but still the boy would not change. Akahiko dropped his weapons, went to hide behind his father when any hint of contention emerged. Minehiro was angry and disappointed, and didn’t hide it. The boy took it all in stride. He looked up at his father with blank eyes, absorbing all the criticism spewed at him and not giving a reaction.

Despite himself, Minehiro sometimes became aware of how much he loved his son. He saw the red hair just like his own, the trembling, just like when he himself was afraid in the training camp, when he was only ten. Minehiro saw the human girl’s eyes in him, dark and withdrawn. He felt the boy’s arms around him at night, and Minehiro’s loose embrace was the closest thing to a hug he could give his son.

He entered the camp, and immediately became aware something was wrong. The atmosphere was different. The men were excited, murmuring, their faces set in frowns. If they had captured a woman they would have been a lot more happy, and if one of their own had been killed, they would be a lot more angry.

He approached Haruya, who was frowning to himself as he heated a pot on the fire. “What’s going on?” Minehiro demanded. The black-haired man looked up and back to his pot, not even bothering to give a cursory bow with his head. “I found a little sister by the bushes. Okaju went and talked to her, and she’s by the fire. I don’t know why she’s all the way out here."

Minehiro was startled. An Oni girl all the way out in the human territory, that was unusual. Almost unheard of, in fact. Curious, he approached the communal fire, giving his son a sharp nod to tell him to stay back.

As the fire came into view, he saw the small figure crouching by it. He was confused as he drew closer—Haruya had said it had been a little sister, but clearly it was a little brother, with a loose kimono and short cropped hair.

“What’s all this about?” he said as he approached him. The child—about Akahiko’s age—started and looked up. Okaju moved closer, and put his arm around the child’s shoulders. Minehiro was struck by how strange that was. Okaju was not one to dispense affection easily.

The child looked up him, his eyes dark and wary and familiar. Very familiar.

Like Akahiko’s. Like the human girl’s.

He shrugged it off as a coincidence. He turned to Makaze. “Who’s this?”

Makaze gripped her shoulder, his face visible tightening. “Her name’s…”

 _“Her?_ This is a girl?” He looked closer. The child, now that he looked closer, had some telltale signs of being a woman. Strangely slender. Small bumps that poked the front of her kimono. Minehiro drew closer, curious. “Why do you look like a boy? What are you doing so far out here, brat?”

“Did you just call me a brat?” the girl was scowling, her jaw gritted. Minehiro leaned closer. “Yes I did, brat. If you have a problem with that, say it to my face.”

“Don’t call me a brat,” she muttered, looking away, seeming ashamed of her own audacity. He gripped her chin and turned it towards himself. “Hey. Did you say you have a problem with what I’m calling you?”

“Tamae.”

“What?” Minehiro turned to Makaze. “What did you just say?”

“Her name is Tamae.”

“So? What does that matter to me?”

“She’s Misayo-hime’s daughter.”

Makaze stared at him, his eyes blank, reflecting nothing but the light of the fire.

The words took a while to catch up to him.

When they did, he let go of Tamae immediately. He stared at her for a few seconds as she rubbed her chin and glared at him. He turned away, breathing heavily. He could feel the men’s eyes on him, silently laughing. He headed for his futon on the edge of camp.

The human girl’s child, his child, Akahiko’s sister, was sitting behind him, watching him go with cautious eyes. She was crouching by the fireplace with Makaze’s arm around her shoulder, unaware as to who Minehiro was.

Minehiro breathed heavily, kneeling by his bedspread. He rested his hands on his temples, trying to stop the trembling.

“…Father?’

He heard Akahiko’s worried voice. “Come over here, boy,” he said, and the red-haired child came over, sitting on the bedspread beside him. Minehiro sat where he was for a few moments, then reached out and gripped his son’s arm strongly.

Minehiro was aware of how much he wanted to hug him, but his limbs wouldn’t work. So he sat there, panting heavily, gripping his son tightly.

***

MISAYO

I was awoken by shouts the next morning.

I sat up, wiping the hangover from my eyes. I looked around for Sakue, but realized that she was still sick, so she couldn’t tend to me. So I got up by myself. Washed my face in a bowl of water, and went out to see what the fuss about.

My mind was still hazy from the alcohol, so I didn’t quite know what was going on until I was quite close to the visitor.

And saw the horns jutting from his brow.

I fell back, my mouth open in a soundless scream. Memories came rushing back to me, just like last night.

_Yellow eyes above me, the animalistic grunts and thrusts of the red-haired Oni who had taken my virginity. The low laughs of the black-haired one, his fingers cupping my breast. Lying down with my children inside me, tears coming into my eyes as they moved. Holding my daughter as she cried, wondering about the fate of my son._

I covered my face and began to run back to the house, until the words of the messenger echoed in my ears.

“A child named Tamae has been taken by us…”

I stopped where I was, staring at the wooden peaks of the house I had spent my life in, watching birds fly past the top.

Then I turned back.

“What have you done with my daughter?” I screamed, grasping his shoulders. He jerked out of my grasp, eyes filled with contempt.

“A child named Tamae has been taken by us,” he said, as if he had rehearsed it, “In return for her, we have agreed to leave this house and neighboring village alone, so we urge you not to take action against the Oni. If you stay where you are and continue as normal, we will…”

“What have you done with her?” I shouted, drowning him out. I could feel hands on my shoulders, trying to pull me away, but I shrugged them off.

“Leave me, so I can deliver my message,” the Oni snarled, pushing my hands of his shoulders. I retreated a few steps, trembling. He went on.

“If you stay where you are and continue as normal, we will spare you. If you attempt to rebel, we will sweep you, and destroy you.”

I stayed where I was, my legs weak as water, staring at the horned man. Tamae. My daughter. My baby. She was taken by the beings I hated more than anything in the world.

Oh gods, what were they doing to her? I saw my daughter pinned down under a group of men, her body broken, bruised and bloody, her face tear-stained, sobbing. Taking one man after another, like little Suzume.

My own daughter.

“Take me with you,” I said immediately. I stepped forward. “Take me with you to your camp.”

“Misayo,” said a voice behind me, “What are you doing?”

I turned to meet the gaze of my mother.


	12. Chapter 12

MISAYO

Okibu had her children at a young age, and even as a grandmother was beautiful, with her hair as black as night, only marred slightly with streaks of gray around the temples.

“You cannot go,” she said. She was sitting opposite me from the table, her arms tightly wound and her face tight. For a moment I thought of the first time I had my period, when I sat opposite her on this same table, and she had smiled at me and sipped her tea, eyes filled with pride. 

“I must,” I said. “Tamae, she’s in danger. I can’t leave her.”

“She is a half-Oni,” Mother burst out, her hand gripping her teacup so hard I thought it might shatter. “You must leave her. She has done nothing but destroy your life. The child has made it impossible for you to marry, made you a laughingstock…”

“Would you have rather I married?” I burst out. The remnants of alcohol still blurred my mind, making it easier to speak against my mother.

She recoiled as I yelled at her. “Would you rather I married and gone away from you, to some house where I knew no one? Never seeing you again?”

She looked down, her mouth tight. “Misayo, your mouth is loose. You—“

“Answer me! Would you rather I left you? Forgot you?”

She didn’t answer me, her eyes fixed somewhere else.

“Misayo,” she said, her voice weak, weaker than I had ever heard, “You are my daughter. You are precious to me above all.”

She put her cup down. “You must realize, as a mother with a daughter, I cannot leave you so quickly. I cannot let you leave into the bosom of the enemy. I have given birth to you, raised you…”

“So you say,” I said, my voice quiet, “But what about my daughter? Is she not the daughter of a mother? Even if she is a half-breed, was she not borne of my body?”

“All she is, is a half-breed. Have you not seen the villagers’ eyes on you? Heard the gossip? Calling you the…the Oni’s whore?”

The words from my mother’s mouth seemed to echo through the room. I was twenty again, holding my young daughter and walking through the village. I heard the jeers, from the villagers I had known since I was a child, the people who had smiled at me, given me goods, chatted with me.

I walked, my child nestled in my arms. I went towards the forest where my house was. But their insults and laughs echoed behind me. I felt I wanted to cry—to say _, did I really have any say in becoming the Oni’s whore? Did I have a say in being raped?_ But still they mocked, still they reviled me. I clutched Tamae tight and walked on as she started to cry. As if she already knew what they saying. As if she already knew they hated her.

I knew at that point, I was no longer one of them. I was no longer a human. No matter how long I had been with them, no matter how I had laughed and talked with them, bid goodbye to them, I would always be the Oni’s whore.

“I may be the Oni’s whore,” I said, “And Tamae may always the Oni’s child. But I will always be her mother. And a mother must always care for her child.”

“Have you given a thought to me?” she hissed, terrifyingly emotional. “I too am a mother. And if you say a mother must always care for her child, then you must realize I cannot let you go into danger.”

I looked at her and said nothing. She shook with barely-concealed emotions, her face, usually set in stern disapproval, seeming to crack.

“Mother,” I said, my voice trembling, “I love you truly. I have always loved you and honored you above all. And that will never change. You took me back when I was ruined, you cared for my daughter when you could have cast her out. For that, all the gratefulness in the entire world will not be enough.”

I stood up. “But I love my daughter as much as you love me. Perhaps if you thought in that way, you would understand.”

Lady Okibu was beginning to cry. Tears were streaking down her face, dripping onto her kimono.

“Goodbye, Mother.”

I walked out and slid the door shut. It was the last time I ever saw her.


	13. Chapter 13

I woke up, my eyes bleary, my cheeks encrusted with tears. Okaju, who had been lying next to me, was up and by the fire. I sat up and rubbed at my eyes.

“Little sister, are you thirsty?”

An Oni was offering me a cup of water. I wanted to push it away and reject it, but my tongue was dry and my throat was sore, so I accepted it and drank it.

The sun was rising above the tops of the trees, so bright it made me squint. I set the cup down and rose shakily to my feet.

Okaju spotted me and waved me over to the fire. He had a bowl of rice for me. I sat down beside him and started eating.

The red-haired Oni with one horn was opposite us. He was watching me carefully, almost fearfully. I tried to ignore him as I gulped down my food.

I felt Okaju’s hand on my shoulder. “Tamae, did you sleep well?” The words were painfully forced. I shrugged him off and crouched by the fire, trying to keep my eyes on my food.

“Tatsushi’s back!”

The sudden uproar caught me off guard, and I nearly fell on my elbows, watching the Oni stampede across the camp. I righted myself and continued eating out of my bowl, but still watching them warily.

They were gathered around the end of the camp, talking to their comrade, who had presumably just returned.

“….bastards!”

My bowl rolled onto the ground.

I pushed my way thorough the crowd, shouting and shoving, and surprisingly, they parted to let me pass.

Mama was standing there, shouting at the Oni, her fists clenched at her sides, her kimono in disarray. Her hair, which she usually pinned up, was tangled and loose down to her waist. She looked like a wild woman, her face twisted and red, her teeth bared and her mouth shouting.

For a moment, all my worries were washed away. Mama was here. She would protect me. She would defend me. Everything would be all right.

I ran to her and clung onto her kimono. I squeezed my eyes shut and began to cry.

Her arms wrapped around me, and I was swathed in her scent, sweet sake and old blankets.

“—kaju!” she screamed. “Commander Okaju! I want to you to contact—“

“Misayo-hime.”

Okaju’s voice was strangely quiet, unsteady,

She went strangely silent as well.

After a while, she said, “Okaju.”

The word was quiet, subdued, so unlike the words she had been yelling earlier. She loosened her grip on me as she stepped forward.

“It’s been a long time,” Okaju said.

Mama said nothing.

“I trust you have been well?” said Okaju.

“Let me and my daughter go back home,” she said.

I pulled my head away from her kimono and saw her facing Okaju. She was strangely calm, her hands slack, her face impassive.

He said nothing.

“Let me and my daughter come back home! I don’t care if you ravage the land, leave us and our village alone!”

Okaju was shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Misayo-hime. I can’t do that.”

Misayo-hime. No one ever called her Misayo-hime. Even though she was a princess, no one, not even the servants, called her—

“She is an Oni,” he continued. “Though she is half human, she belongs with us.”

“No, she doesn’t. I am her mother and she is mine. Isn’t that what you Onis say? That a child stays with her mother?”

“You are a human. The rules are different.” His voice was firm. “Tamae stays with us.”

“Don’t!” she shouted, stumbling forward. “How do you think she will be treated, Okaju?” she gripped the sleeve of his shirt.

How strange. She had never touched another man like that…

“Treated?” he snarled, wrenching himself away. “What about her life in the human world? Just how is she being treated _here?_ What kind of family lets their daughter cut her hair short? What kind of family lets their daughter walk out alone? I can tell you don’t care about her.”

Mama stood where she was, her fists bunched at her sides. I knelt behind her, shivering.

“Even if she is an outcast, I—“

“Then there is nothing else to say. Your daughter is an outsider in your world. But she will be one of us in our world.”

“Human girl!” I heard a loud voice shout. I jumped. I lurched forward and gripped my mother.

The red-haired man from the other night was coming towards us. He was so big and strong when he was walking. He towered over me, over my mother. When he stopped in front of us, I was so frightened I sank to my knees. His eyes were gold, as cold as a winter storm.

“Human girl,” he said softly.

She said nothing. When he reached out an arm, she slapped him.

He staggered back, clutching his cheek. Mama stood heaving, her arm upraised

He stopped in front of her. He looked down at her. For a few moments they were silent.

“Nanazawa,” my mother said, as if she were uttering a curse. “You son of a bitch, you motherfucker—“

“Misayo-hime,” said Okaju.

“You cocksucker—“

“Misayo. Enough.” Okaju’s voice was strong and final. “You can go home if you want. But your daughter will stay here. Make your choice.”

Mama stumbled backwards. Her arms were shaking, her face pale. I clung onto her, my fists clenching the bundled cloth, staring up at her with my eyes watering.

In her eyes I saw something I didn’t want to see again.

“I will stay here,” she said.

A raucous cheer rose among the men. Okaju turned and shouted, “She is not for you! Never touch her!’’

Murmuring erupted among the men. I chanced a look out and saw their faces, They were all looking at my mother with lewd expressions, some licking their lips, some protesting and disappointed. The lust in their eyes was terrifying. They had been gentle with me, but with my mother…


	14. Chapter 14

Mama sat by the fire, holding me tightly. I was comforted by her embrace, but frightened by all the men around. They all looked at my mother like they had violent dreams about her. When I had been dragged into camp, they had been kind to me, but now, they seemed to be completely different people.

Mama hugged me closer to her. I clutched her, burying my face into her chest. Tears were beginning to seep out of my eyes. I was terrified by these men and their gazes.

Okaju brought by some food, which she took and shared with me. I had already eaten, so I refused, but she made me eat anyway. She was holding me so tight it hurt. She looked around, her face fierce and protective. I had never seen that expression on her.

She had been usually asleep during the day, and drunk at night. She would slurr and stagger when she got up, bumping into people without even a “sorry”, until Sakue, the poor, put-upon maidservant, would escort her back to her rooms.

But now….

A man passed too close to her, and she glared at him, clutching me so close I could barely breathe. The man chuckled in amusement, as if what she was doing was a joke.

I hated being here. I hated being around so many men. I wished I had my sword so I could protect my mother and myself. But the man who had brought me into camp had taken it for himself. I could see him by one of the fires, the magnificent blade stuck haphazardly in a sheathe on his back.

I pressed my face into Mama’s shoulder. More than anything, I wanted Kaemi. I wanted to hear her soft, chiding words, to hear her giggle, to be comforted by her presence. She was my dearest sister, and the thought that I might not be able to see her again…

“Misayo-hime?”

I started and looked up as I heard Okaju’s voice. Mama looked up too, and scowled. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted you to know,” he said softly. “When Nanazawa came on this venture, he brought his… his son.”

My mother went still as a hiding fawn. Beneath my pale hands, I felt her heartbeat speed up. Her breaths stopped.

Finally, she whispered, “Where is he?”

“He’s with his father outside of camp. If you like, I can—“

She stood up abruptly, making me tumble to the ground. “Take me to him. Take me to him now.”

Scowling, I looked up at her, rubbing my head. “Who—“ I demanded, but she was already off, following Okaju towards the forest. I scrambled up and ran after them, tripping on the head of a sleeping Oni. Ignoring his muttered insult, I followed them into the thick woods.

It was still early morning, and dewdrops glittered on the dark green leaves. The grass was damp underneath my feet, and I realized with a start I had forgotten to put on my sandals when I went to follow them. A chill bit my uncovered collarbone, and I wrapped my kimono tighter around myself.

I heard Mama let out a cry and footsteps speed up. I looked over where she was, and she was on her knees embracing a young man around my own age. That awful red-haired Oni, Nanazawa, was standing a little bit away, his arms folded and head turned away.

The young man looked confused, and was struggling weakly, but my mother had him tightly clamped in her grip and wouldn’t let him go. I walked up to them, avoiding Nanazawa’s piercing glare.

“Who are you?” I asked the young man. He had big dark eyes and red hair like Nanazawa, so I assumed he must have been his son—they had the same sturdy build, and his hair was the exact same shade. The boy had very soft cheeks and long eyelashes, but the gentleness of his features was undermined by the strangely blank look in his eyes.

“What’s your name?” Mama asked the boy, holding his face in her hands. There were tears streaking down her face.

“Akahiko,” said the boy, his eyes going over to Nanazawa. “Who are you?” the boy asked as Nanazawa’s mouth twitched.

Mama let out a sob. “Akahiko, I’m your mother!”

***

MISAYO

The moment I saw him, I knew.

He had my face.

My Tamae, she looked no different from me, but her face was too sharp, too wary. She looked like her fathers, she had the watchful eyes too peculiar to her race.

But him, his face had the softness and gentleness of my family. He looked like

_my father_

the little son that I had not been allowed to hold. That was all that I cared about. I felt like the mother I was never able to be, cradling my infant son. I clutched him, remembering the little red bundle that had been taken away from me. But now he was here. He was with me.

I heard pattering footsteps, then Tamae’s voice. “Who are you?”

I separated briefly, looking down at my son’s dear face, and I said much gentler, “What is your name?”

“Akahiko,” he said, his eyes darting to his father. Nanazawa’s mouth twitched, and he looked away.

“Who are you?” said my son.

I felt my heart plummet. _Of course he wouldn’t know who I was,_ my practical side said, _he’s been raised with the Onis for all of his life. Why would he be told who his mother is?_

But my emotional side was sobbing. The thought of my own son not knowing who his mother was…

I cried, “Akahiko, I’m your mother!”

The boy in my hands went limp, then began to struggle. I clutched him tight, but he escaped from me.

He went over to Nanazawa, that red-haired motherfucker, that rapist. Akahiko clung onto him, his face teary.

I heard Tamae’s voice. “I have a… I have a…brother?”

I saw as hands clutched her palms, her face became furious. Even if she didn’t notice, I knew how she felt. She was my daughter. I saw the changes in her expression, the betrayal in her eyes.

_“Why did you never tell me?”_

She lurched forward, her fists out. She did not have the strength of the Oni, so she beat uselessly at me, but Okaju yanked her away. “Tamae, child, don’t—“

He was drowned out by her wail. She was crumpling, her body folding in on herself, and I dearly wished I could comfort her, my daughter, but—

My son.

Nanazawa was pushing him towards me, saying, “Respect your mother!”

In any other situation, I would say, _what? Nanazawa, how dare you of all people tell someone to be respectful towards me!_

But that was years and years ago, and all I could do was hug my only son.

Years and years.

Tamae was crying. I wanted desperately to comfort her, but she was wrapped in Okaju’s arms. She was struggling, I could see, but I couldn’t let go of Akahiko.

He let himself be cherished, let himself be loved, although his eyes were so blank. I held him so tight. I would never let him go again.

For the briefest moment, I was grateful, so grateful, for Nanazawa. For him to give me such a beautiful creation.


	15. Chapter 15

TAMAE

Okaju was holding me tight, so I couldn’t struggle. But I saw my mother hug the red-haired Oni boy, my “brother”.

“Brother”. _Why would she not tell me?_

The thought that I had a sibling had made me furious, made me struggle and fight to be free. I wanted to confront her, to yell at her.

But the white-haired Oni would not let go of me.

I struggled so hard, but his grip was firm and hard, and I could not get free.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I screamed again, but she was not paying attention to me, too busy with her arms wrapped around that red-haired boy.

I was crying, tears streaming down my cheeks, and I was so embarrassed, but I was so angry, why wouldn’t she _tell me?_

After a while, she and I had calmed down, and Okaju had let go of me. He was still holding my arm, and Misayo was still embracing the red-haired Oni boy.

I swiped at my running nose, and felt a hand brush my hair. I looked up, and the red-haired Oni—my father?— had his hand on my head.

“Are you my father?” I asked him, and his face tightened, but he kept fondling my hair. I jerked away but he suddenly lurched forward, and his hard arms wrapped around me.

Was I being embraced by my father?

Father. Who was my father? Among the village children, among the household, there was no such thing as a child who did not know his father.

But this red-haired man, whom my mother hated so much, who had fathered my brother. Was he my father? He couldn’t have been. Not such a hateful man.

I looked up at him. His eyes were trembling; his arms were wrapped tight around me. He clamped me tightly, so I couldn’t get free. “You aren’t my father!” I screamed. “Let me go!”

Nanazawa released me abruptly. I ran towards my mother, who was still cradling the red-haired boy. “Let him go!” I cried. I tried to wedge myself between them, but Mama still clung tight to him.

This boy was not my brother. That man was not my father. I wanted my mother to get away from both of them. She did not belong with them.

Okaju yanked me away and towed me away, letting that damned one-horned Oni and his son remain.

I kicked and fought, but his grip was strong, and soon I was thrown back into the camp with the other men. I raised myself on my hands and knees, breathing heavily, and soon a couple Oni approached me, concerned.

One of them I recognized.

“You took my sword!” I yelled. I raised myself onto my feet, trembling with fury. The recent events had stirred my blood, and I was looking for a fight.

He looked astonished, stepping back. “Little sister, that sword couldn’t have belonged to you.”

“It did. And you took it from me!” I screamed at him shrilly, stepping forward. He was immediately on the defensive, recoiling and holding his hands up. It was so strange. People never deferred to me.

“Little sister, I am sure one of my brothers has a naginata, if you wanted to—“

“No. That sword is mine. I want it back.” I took another menacing step forward, but this time he held his ground. “No. I took it from you. By rights it is mine.”

I paused, wondering how to answer. By now a number of the men were silent, listening to our battle. I fixed my eyes on the man in front of me—so tall, so strong, an Oni. Hand-to-hand, he could defeat me easily, unless—

“I challenge you to a battle,” I said. The men began to stir, muttering. “I challenge you,” I said louder, “To a battle!”

“Little sister, I cannot—“

“Why? Are you _afraid_ of me?”

He glared at me now. “No, I’m not afraid of you. But you’re just a child, and I’m afraid I might hurt you.”

“Then,” I said. “We will fight to disarm.”

I had heard vivid narrations of my Uncle Danjirou to my rapt mother behind closed doors. I had spent many a night—especially after I had gained my sword—crouched silently outside their doors, my ear pressed to the thick paper, listening to the tales he wove of epic battles, vicious swordfights. I knew what to say. I stood straight and puffed myself up.

“Do you really challenge me to a battle?” the Oni’s voice had become colder, and he looked down at me with ruthless red eyes, devoid of mercy. He had lost the last ounce of his patients.

“Yes,” I said. “On the condition that you let me use the sword you stole from me.”

“Tamae, what are you doing?”

On hearing the voice of the Oni Okaju, I turned around, scowling. He was striding near me, holding a half-full bowl of food.

“Leave us,” I said. “This is none of your business.”

“As your uncle, I must intervene.” Okaju's voice was ice as he stared at me. “I will not allow you to fight—“

“This little sister is a woman. Her wished overrides yours,” said the Oni facing me. I heard him slide my sword out of the sheath, and looked back to see him offering it to me.

“She is a young girl, and illegitimate—“

“Illegitimate or not, she’s still a woman of age. She’s old enough to make her own decisions,” said another Oni with short-cropped white hair. Okaju silenced him with a glare.

I didn’t understand. I, a fifteen-year-old girl, old enough to make her own decisions? But women weren’t allowed to make their own decisions. Certainly not me, an illegitimate half-breed.

“She is not a full Oni. I command—“

“She is Oni enough. Let her fight!”

The men roared, and I looked down at the sword in the man’s hands, shimmering bright in the sunlight, begging me to seize its hilt and draw it

“Haruya,” said Okaju quietly, “If you draw your sword against this girl—“

“Be quiet,” I hissed in a sudden surge of loathing. Okaju’s molten gold eyes fixed on mine. I grabbed the sword and held it on front of me, reveling in the sudden weight in my hands. “I choose to fight this man. Whatever injuries I bear are my fault. I accept full responsibility for this.”

He looked at me, his hands tight where he clutched his bowl. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” His voice had a tremor of unsteadiness underneath it.

“We’re just fighting to disarm,” I said, feeling a sudden need to comfort him. “I won’t get hurt, I promise. Just step aside. We’ll have a polite battle, and if he wins, he wins, and if I win, I win. “

He said nothing, but his eyes were still worriedly fixed on me, and his mouth twisted. He looked away.

“Let us fight, Haruya,” I said, turning to the Oni in front of me. He drew his own sword, a poorly-forged slice of metal, and took a fighting stance opposite me.

He lunged for me immediately, without a warning. I was shocked, my arms spasming, but the sword came alive in my hands, expertly blocking his thrust.

It was amazing. The sword was a being of its own, controlling my arms to move it where it wanted. I felt like I was a being cut off at the wrists, controlled by a puppet master moving its fingers above me. I didn’t even have to think. All I had to do was watch as my hands blocked and slashed, and with a sudden jerk, knocked the sword out of Matsubara’s hands.

It thudded onto the ground, and I heard gasps by the watching men. How long had it been? Twenty seconds?

It wasn’t me.

But they didn’t need to know that.

I straightened up. Watching the defeated Oni sink to his knees. “I believe this belongs to me,” I said, sheathing the sword inside my kimono. Again, the cold metal stung my skin, but it was a good pain, a triumphant pain.

_You have done well, Tamae._


	16. Chapter 16

MISAYO

Akahiko was still standing stiff in my embrace, his eyes drawn to his father. When I let him go, he stepped away as if I was a dirty thing.

“He’s so quiet,” I whispered.

“He is a quiet child. He always has been.” Nanazawa was standing by me, one hand reaching out to rest on his son’s head.

I looked up at him. He hadn’t changed much. There were more lines, more wear on his face, but he had the same roughness, the same muscular build as he always had.

“Did you raise him?” I asked. I didn’t like talking to Nanazawa, but Akahiko didn’t look as if he was going to give me answers any time soon.

“No. Up until ten, communal mothers did. But when he entered the military, I did.”

“You took care of him then?”

“Yes. No one touched him with me around. I made sure of that.” His voice was deep, proud, trying to be… _pleasing?_

I looked up at him, his rugged face, hair tied back in a ponytail with his arms folded. “Thank you. If not for anything, thank you. For protecting my son.”

“Our son.”

“My son.” I didn’t want Nanazawa to get any ideas. Akahiko was a child born of my body. I had carried and birthed him, not Nanazawa.

“Our son. I raised him alongside me.” he was not giving up. I glared, slowly standing up to face him.

“You do not know the agony of a mother. How do you think I felt, having my child taken away from—“

“You felt? How did I feel!” his voice was a roar. “How do you think I felt, watching my little son be taken away from me? I sorely wished to hold him. I did. I wanted to take him in my arms and protect him. You are not the only parent, Misayo. I have felt anguish, lying alone, knowing by own flesh and blood was away from me, in the arms of another.”

His voice was unstable, wavering, and I looked down, flustered by his words. “Nanazawa, I—“

“If you had just gotten pregnant, that day I took you by the lake, none of this would have happened.” His voice was truly weeping now, angry sobs, sobs that made his yellow eyes gleam in fury. “I would have married you, and then I could leave the military, and we would have lived in the country, and fished or farmed, and we could live by ourselves alone with our children—”

He was furiously crying, emotions spilling out of his mouth. I stepped back as he took a step forward. This was a new side of Nanazawa I had never seen.

His eyes were burning with rage. Despite his words, I could see the violence in his eyes. Although he talked of a peaceful life, his gaze was that of a bloodthirsty warrior.

“Nanazawa,” I said, my voice strangely calm despite my fear, “Don’t—“

He gripped my kimono and ripped it asunder, revealing my small breasts. He gripped one with his callused hand, thumb rubbing brutally over my nipple.

Oh gods it had been so long—

And by the same man, no less—

_I could feel it, I could feel it, the hot, throbbing thing that thrust and pressed my insides. It was painful, both physically and mentally, to have myself be violated before the whole world. He lashed his waist, his breaths becoming more excited. “Misayo, you’re so hot and… tight… I’m going to…”_

“Get away from me!” I screamed, lashing out at him. My blows barely glanced off his face, and he winded and batted me away.

I felt like the young woman who had tried to fight him off all those years ago, lying in the bedspread, in the Oni’s city.

Trying, but failing.

I leaned down, feeling for a sharp stick. “Don’t touch me, Nanazawa. I’m warning you.”

He focused on me again, and took another menacing step forward.

I backed away until my back pressed against a tree. I looked aside, seeing my little son standing stock-still, his eyes blank, his body stiff.

“Akahiko,” I said gently, “It’s better if you went away.”

“Go back to the camp, son,” said Nanazawa. At that, the little boy turned and ran away. The crackles of broken leaves and twigs faded into the distance.

As soon as the last sounds faded into the forest, he pressed forward again, his breath hot on my face. I jerked my head away, but his lips sought mine.

I stabbed forward with my left hand. The sharp stick I was holding pierced his skin. Scarlet blood began to stream down his neck.

He jerked back in sudden pain, clutching the side of his neck. I began to try to scramble away towards the camp. My legs were moving, I was gaining speed, I was escaping—

A hand descended on the back of my leg, and I collapsed on the ground. My chin ground into the earth, and my teeth sunk deep into my tongue. Blood burst into my mouth.

Harsh hands pulled my kimono up, curled around my bare legs.

A heavy body pulled itself over mine, pinning me to the ground.

No. No.

I struggled, clawing back, kicking and struggling, trying desperately to free myself of the grip of Nanazawa.

_I could feel Nanazawa’s harsh breath against the top of my head. He thrust between my legs, his cock rubbing against my lower lips._

_“I hate having to share you,” he hissed. “I hate having to know another man can use you like I can…_ ”

I was screaming, screaming, but then Nanazawa clamped his hand, muffling my sounds.

His hard member was invading me. He thrust against me from behind, delving deep into me, so deep—I hadn’t had a man like this in years and years—and it felt so good—I was wet, although I didn’t want to be—

He was so heavy and he was panting, his breath ticking the top of my head. His cock was hard and hot, thrusting so deep inside me I felt like I was going to faint. Every movement forced a delicious friction inside of me, my clit twitching, my body trembling. He gripped my waist, driving his waist forward again, and my wrists ground against the dirt, he was so brutal—

“Nagamaru was better than you,” I hissed, hatred enveloping my mind in a bitter wave.

He paused, and my pleasure was halted, but then he snarled, a sharp, feral sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

He thrust forward again, so hard that my breath was driven out of me. My legs kicked the ground, toenails digging into the earth fruitlessly as my body was overcome by ground-shaking pleasure. Wonderful heat enveloped my body, burning away my thoughts in a hot stream.


	17. Chapter 17

TAMAE

“You don’t look so well,” I said.

Mama stared straight ahead, her eyes glassy. Her hands twisted in her lap, her nails white with the pressure she was putting on them.

I wished Sakue was here. She always knew what to do. She always knew how to calm people down. “Mama, guess what?” I said. “I had a fight with an Oni!”

At this her head snapped forward, and her eyes finally focused on mine. “What? Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“Mama, I’m fine,” I whined as she tugged at my kimono. “I won. I got my sword back.”

“What sword?”

Okaju thankfully interrupted us, his slender hands curling around Mama’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

She shrugged him off—almost reflexively—and backed up until her arms were embracing my shoulders. “All right? I think you know the answer to that.”

He looked at Mama, his brow furrowed. “Did my brother do anything to you? Misayo-hime, I didn’t like when he did it to you back then, and I still don’t like it.”

Back then?

“Why don’t you ask him?” she hissed, clamping my shoulders so hard they began to hurt. His gaze hard, he withdrew and turned to the rest of the camp.

“Do you see Akahiko?” murmured my mother in my ear, once he was gone. “See if you can see him.”

Resentment boiled in my gut. I sullenly scanned the crowd, but didn’t bother looking closely. The red-haired boy could die for all I cared. I didn’t want him here.

“Why didn’t you tell me I had a brother?” I said to her, my hands fisting in her kimono. Her mouth a straight line, she turned away.

“Answer me! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Akahiko was taken from me right after birth. I never got to hold him. I thought it would be better if—if—perhaps to spare you the pain—“

She paused, and rubbed her forehead. “I don’t want to talk about it. Tamae, go sit down and eat something.”

“Mama—“

“Now!” her voice held no room for argument, and I turned away, my fists clenching with anger.

I spotted the red-haired Oni with one horn by the fire, and made a straight line for him. The battle had hardened my nerves, and I was no longer afraid of these horned men. I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. My mother, though…I cast a glance backwards, and Okaju had approached her again, and they were beginning to talk. By the crease in her brow, I could tell it was not a happy conversation, but at least the white-haired Oni would protect her.

“Nanazawa,” I said as I approached him. He looked up, a broad grin on his face. What was he so happy about?

“Come and sit with me, daughter,” he said, grabbing my arm to pull me down. I stumbled and fell onto my knees, but his strong arm around my shoulders saved me from falling. “I hear you have defeated an Oni in a fair fight. I am so proud.”

I looked away, wriggling to get out of his grip, but he was holding me too tight. “I supposed you get your sword skills from me, eh? You should have been my son instead of Akahiko.”

“What did you do to my mother?” I asked, and he flinched and turned to me. Instead of the easy cheerfulness of before, his eyes were glaring. “That is none of your business. A child like you should not pay attention to such things.”

“I’m not a child. I am fifteen.”

“Have you bled?”

“No.”

“Then you are a child.”

I felt my hands clench into fists. “Don’t touch my mother. I’m warning you.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do.”

“I do. I’m a… a woman, aren’t I? Don’t I have the right to defend my mother?”

“If you haven’t bled, you’re a child. And you should listen to me. I’m your father.”

“No.” I yanked myself out of his grip. “I don’t know if you’re my father. Didn’t my mother have more than one partner?”

He tensed, the cords in his neck tightening. “Don’t you fucking talk about that to me.”

“It’s true, though. You aren’t my father for sure.”

I gasped as he gripped my throat, bringing my face to his. “For all intents and purposes, I am the one who fathered you. Are you going to go back to the city and meet your other father? Hmm? Your mother is nothing. You are nothing. No one will want you. Without my protection, you will fall.”

“That isn’t true,” I gasped, my fingernails digging into his skin. He let me go, and I sucked in air. “I’ll survive without you. I’ll protect her. And if that doesn’t work, Okaju will protect us. Won’t he?”

“Tamae. Will you let me and my brother talk?” Okaju’s cool voice made me yank my head up. He was standing before us, holding a bowl of food in one hand, the other resting on the hilt of his sword.

I scrambled up and bowed hurriedly in thanks, before the brunt of his words caught up to me. “You’re his brother?”

The Oni nodded. My eyes widened. “So are you—“

“Please leave us. I have brought you food. Go and sit with your mother. I will be with you shortly.”

I took the bowl from him, my hands trembling, and watched as he sat beside Nanazawa. I walked away, holding the warm bowl tightly, until I saw my mother sitting against a tree. “Mama!”

“Tamae! Did you eat?”

I looked down at the steaming bowl of rice and meat in my hand. Saliva surged in my mouth, but I fought it away. “Yes. I brought this for you.”

“Tamae. You are kind to me.” her voice was gentle as I handed her the bowl. “Come sit with me.”

I snuggled into her kimono as she began to eat, comforted by her warm body. “Mama…”

“What’s wrong, my love?” her voice was so gentle. She was speaking in the same way as when I was a young child, before Sakue and Kaemi stared raising me. I felt tears prick my eyes at the wave of nostalgia, and wiped them away.

“Who are my fathers?”

She went very stiff. I rolled off of her onto the hard ground. “Mama, I’m sorry…”

“There were a few men.” Her voice was trembling, unsteady, but had a hint of calmness underneath. “Nanazawa of course. And…”

“And…” her voice failed her, and she was silent for a few moments. “And a man from the city, named Nagamaru.”

“Who was he?”

“A nobleman. I caught his fancy.” Her voice was dismissive.

“Just Nanazawa and Nagamaru?”

“Just…” She went silent for a moment. “Just them.”

We were quiet for a long time afterwards. Mama ate her food, and I gradually pressed against her, letting myself be wrapped in her warm embrace.


	18. Chapter 18

“I have received a message from the human commander!” I heard a hoarse voice shout. Okaju.

The voice jerked me awake. I slid out of my mother’s arms, my fingers digging into the soil.

Okaju was standing by the fire, his face grim and his sword firmly strapped to his back.

“Ashikage Danjirou has issued a declaration of war. We are to meet him at the south edge of the forest, by Jijinboro, at nightfall the next day.”

I heard murmuring. I blinked, Danjirou was my uncle. Perhaps he had ascended to a higher position when I had been gone.

“Sleep and gather your arms. When it comes time to fight against him, we will do so with our pride as Oni.”

I heard murmured agreement, then shuffling as the men went to bed.

I pushed past the men and headed toward Okaju, tripping over outstretched legs. “”Okaju?”

“Tamae? What is it?” He seemed surprised to see me awake.

This was my chance. My chance to send my mother to a safer place.

“I have a sword,” I started slowly.

“Yes?” my uncle was perplexed, his face showing confusion.

Okaju was one to be trusted. I trusted him above all other Onis. I knew him, I was related to him. He cared for me and my mother.

“This is a special sword.”

“Oh? How so?” he turned away, not taking me seriously, his eyes watching his strong Oni soldiers.

”You saw how I defeated Haruya,” I said. I stared at him, calculating, as a neutral expression swamped his face. “Yes, I did,” he said.

I took a deep breath and looked around. There were still Oni around, talking to their compatriots. Some had their eyes on me.

“Let us go to a more isolated place,” I said. He nodded and escorted me to an abandoned part of the forest, where berries as red as blood dotted the bushes.

When I was sure there was no one looking for us, I took a breath. “Okaju-sama, I am in possession of… of a very valuable thing.”

He stared at, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

”This sword I have.” I hefted it in my arms, letting the sunlight glint off the cold metal. “It’s… enchanted…”

The last word was an effort. I didn’t want to tell him. I didn’t want to tell anyone. But he, out of all people, I thought I could trust.

He watched me silently. “It is a living sword?”

“Yes. It let me defeat Haruya. It is very precious to me. It was given to me by a special person.”

He leaned down. His voice was a whisper and his shoulders were stiff. “You tell the truth?” he said.

“I do.”

He looked at me for a moment, then stood straight up. “So what is your intention for revealing this to me?”

“I want my mother to be sent to safety,” I said. “She is being hurt here, I can tell. I want her to be somewhere where she is safe.”

He looked at me for a few moments. “I wish to keep her here with me,” he said. “I will watch over her. I truly care for your mother—“

“You have not protected her. I can see that. She is hurt.” I savored the way my words cut him off. When I spoke, he went silent.

“I want you to send her to safe place to where she will not be hurt. If you do this, then I will give you my sword to defeat Ashikage Danjirou with.”

He regarded with incredulously. “Ashikage Danjioru is your uncle—“

“I don’t care,” I interrupted him. “He has never treated me well. I don’t like him. Take his life. I don’t care.”

“He is your mother’s brother,” he said, his tone gentle. “He—“

“He is nothing to me.” I had very little memories of Ashikage Danjirou. Just loud, angry shouts, and my mother crying. Repulsive glances, being pointedly ignored. Standing in the corner as he laughed and greeted my mother and enfolded her in his arms. Wrapping my arms around myself as the others turned their eyes on me, judging me, despising me—

“Kill him.” The words slid so easily out of my throat.

He was silent for a moment. “Very well.”

His cool, long fingers grasped the ridged hilt, lifting it away from me. For a moment, I leaned forward, trying to take it back, sudden terror erupting within me as he drew it away.

But it blew away as he sheathed it, fixing his gaze on me in a determined expression. “Are you sure about this?”

“I am.” I had a strength I never knew I had. I was being listened to. For once in my life, I had power.

He did not question my words.

***

MISAYO

Most of the men were gone, away to fight a battle. I heard my brother’s name parleyed about, and it sent a cold shard of fear into my heart. I sat, head in my hands, as the fire burned low and the remaining men growled and bickered.

The night sky was black above me. Some moments I thought I could hear screams in the distance, but I was sure it was my paranoid mind inventing things.

Again, my mind wandered back to Danjirou. I wished I had alcohol to quench my fears. Sake had been my best and most constant companion in the years since Tamae was born, comforting me through the hard periods of shunning and disgust. My body was longing for the sensation of dull pleasure, washing away my worries and fears.

“Mama!”

I heard Tamae’s voice, excited and bright. She had blossomed. Whereas she had been a cowed little creature when she lived with me, she was becoming increasingly outspoken and assertive, bossing around the Oni men as if it were her duty.

Not like when I was a captive…

I was still aware of the glances they sent me, the lustful looks, and I remembered a less fortunate human who had been caught by them, poor Suzume, whose bones were resting beneath a tree somewhere, and yet whose ghost had haunted my dreams since I saw her slumped beneath the tree, blood trickling from her forehead.

Trying to shake the image from my mind, I looked away, searching for a small, red-haired figure. I saw him hunched over a faraway fire, and I stood up to go see him.

“Mama, sit down, I want to tell you something…”

My little daughter was tugging at my kimono, trying to get me to sit down again. “Tamae, wait a moment,” I said.

“No. I want to tell you this now.” She was practically bouncing on her heels, acting like a small child, even though she was a young woman. I had noticed hazily some years before how her breasts were bulging against her scrawny skin, how her hips were becoming more defined and a brush of hair grew between her legs. At the time it had not worried me. No human man would want to marry or take her away from me. But now…

What if an Oni wanted her as a wife?

Tamae leaned closer, clutching my kimono tightly. “Okaju told me something.”

“Oh? What did he tell you?”

Tamae beamed. Her beautiful face lit up with happiness. “He said that he will send you to a safe place when this battle is done.”

I felt a sudden numbness seize my limbs. I stumbled, and she reached out to steady me. “What’s wrong?” she said, her voice worried.

“I need to sit down,” I said, using the tone that made Tamae quiver and obey me. She let me lean back against the tree, then told me she would get tea for me and fled.

My arms and legs were trembling. The rough bark of the tree dug into my skin through my kimono, and I felt chills trickle down my spine.

_Nagamaru ground his hips forward in slow motions, his fingernails plucking my clit, his attention countering the pain Nanazawa gave me. Every rub, stroke of his fingertips made me arch my back, my body already indoctrinated to the pleasure he gave me._

Again.

And again.

The memories I had tried to hard to oppress, drinking and drinking myself to oblivion, surfaced again.

I knelt on my knees, sobs forcing their way into my throat. When Tamae came back, she could only stare at me with confused eyes and try and comfort me. The cup fell to thud gently on the leaves.

The tea soaked into the soft ground.

“Mama,” she said.

I clutched myself with weak fingers, rocking myself back and forth like the way Sakue used to do to me. The fear swamped my mind, tearing its way into the depths of my body, making me remember things I never wanted to remember.

My sobs were ceaseless until the strong voice of Okaju rang out among the camp.

It was almost a relief.

 

***

 

OKAJU

“We have returned from battle victorious!” called Makaze. “However, a number of our men have been injured. Get the physician!”

It was a common occurrence in the camp. They always won, but not without losses. Thankfully none of his men had been killed—although Ashikage Danjirou had inflicted a good bit of damage by himself, before he escaped. It was startling to watch. He could easily compare him to his sister—they both had the same ferocity in them when they fought, the same fire in their eyes. The same fearlessness towards an enemy they knew they couldn’t defeat.

“My brother?” Misayo’s voice entered his ear. He felt her hands close on the sleeve of his shirt. “Is he alive? Where is he? Did you kill him? _Did you kill him?”_

“No, he is alive,” Makaze said curtly, pushing her away from him. “Matsubara, there is a man you need to attend to—he’d breathing shallowly, you’d better lay him down.”

He gave orders, supervised the medical assistance of his men, yet was still aware of Misayo-hime’s presence of the periphery of his vision, hovering. He knew she wanted to ask something of him, but he was too busy organizing his camp.

Hours later, when sweat ran down his brow, when the moon was high in the sky and his men were all dead or healing he let himself fall back to lean against a tree. His muscles ached and he longed to lie down. His mind was hazy, and he felt a wave of tiredness fall over him.

“Okaju,” said Misayo, and Makaze snapped back into reality. “Misayo-hime,” he said. “Is there something you want?”

Her face was cold and bare in the light of the campfires, all angles and white shapes. Her soft, gentle features seemed to disappear in the harsh light that shone from her eyes. “Let’s go into the forest. I want to talk to you about something.”

Okaju shook the exhaustion from his system and stood up. He followed her into the forest, taking care not to bump into a tree or step into a bush. Misayo-hime moved as if it were her home, deftly avoiding protruding branches and stepping over tree roots. He wondered bitterly why she managed to gain such an understanding of her surroundings. He was a military commander who had been trained in the harshest terrain, and he still couldn’t step on a sharp twig without gritting his teeth.

The forest was too thick. Too dense.

She stopped abruptly in a moonlit glade. Her shoulders were straight, her head bowed. The pale moonlight shone off her skin, turning it pale blue.

When she spoke, her voice was hard and hoarse. “Tamae told me you are sending us back.”

“That I did,” he answered cautiously, trying to keep his voice neutral. He didn’t know how Misayo-hime would react, but he knew she wouldn’t be accepting.

“I will not go back there,” she said. He knew by the way she said _back there_ that she meant the Oni world.

“I will make sure you have a comfortable life,” he reassured her.

“That doesn’t matter. I will never leave this land again. This is my home. I will stay here or I will die here.”

On the last few words her voice stuttered, and she brought a hand up to wipe at her face. He wanted to reach out, but he knew she wouldn’t take very kindly to being comforted by him.

“Misayo-hime,” he said over her sobs, “I know that you are upset over this. To leave one’s home—“

“I will not leave! This is my birthplace. Okaju—“

“I want you to marry me.” He spoke over her pleas. At that, her voice ceased

“What?” she was incredulous, yet the disbelief seemed so artificial, like a film covering an unborn child.

“Yes. I want to marry you. I will protect you and Tamae for as long as my life lasts. You will have a comfortable mansion in the countryside, like the one you grew up in. You may behave however you wish.” His words burst forth from his voice, words he had begged to shed decades ago.

For a while she did not answer, standing in the blinding moonlight with her hands around herself. It was hard to believe she was a mother of two. She clutched herself in such a childish way, like a child who was afraid her parents might find out she stole the sweet rice cakes.

“Marry me?” her words were quiet.


	19. Chapter 19

She looked at him for a long time, both saying nothing, just standing. Her black eyes glistened in the moonlight, like pools of dark water, both firmly fixed on him. After a while he heard her take a sharp breath in.

“Why?”

“I want you to be safe and happy.” That was all he could say, He could not sort out his tangled emotions any other way—he did not know how he felt about her, only that he did.

“But… do you love me?”

Okaju shook his head. “I care for you and want you to be safe. That is the extent of it.”

“Some people would call that love.”

“I wouldn’t.”

They lapsed into silence again. A cry of a night bird startled Misayo, made her start and turn around. 

When she turned back, she finally spoke. “I don’t love you either, Okaju. I do ... find you tolerable. But you must realize there are things I cannot forgive you for. Killing my father. Taking Tamae.”

At her words he felt a chill sweep down his spine. The sickening wave of emotion nearly overcame him, but he fought it down. He had suppressed his emotions all his life, but standing in front of Misayo, it was particularly hard for him. The sight of Lord Ashikage kneeling in front of him, blood running down his ice-pale face as he pleaded with him…the human’s last words, not about honor, or valor, or any warrior’s duty, but just a plea for him to keep his daughter safe. And Okaju couldn’t even do that.

He let out his breath in a huff. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

She nodded and brought an arm up to wipe her eyes. “Well, in that case. I will.”

Her words stunned him. He hadn’t expected her to agree so easily. “You…”

“But,” she cut him off. “I have conditions.”

The cry of a night bird entered his ears. He was alone, solitary in the sea of trees. The moon shone bright, silver-white bathing Misayo in brightness. She was still, silent, a piece of the forest as she was.

She was alone in the forest of black trees, a goddess, frail figure, wrapped in thick cloth. But her eyes were liquid black, the color of burning coal. 

“You will send my daughter to safety. You will assure her welfare. I will marry you, Okaju. I will live you for the rest of my life. But you must also protect my children, my only son as well as my daughter. Do you promise this, Okaju Makaze?”

Her voice was hard, definite, like the voice of Commander Jikayo. The voice of a woman who had seen what the world had to offer her, and had rejected it.

He bowed to her. The tips of his white hair brushed the green-tipped grass. 

“Forever and always, Misayo-hime.”


	20. Chapter 20

_TAMAE_

 

I was waiting impatiently for Mama’s return, and when she came out of the dark forest, her legs trembling, I was relieved. “Mama, you were gone for so long!”

“I am fine. I was just speaking with Okaju. Tamae, it’s getting late. Go lie down.”

Her words were sharp and oddly authoritative, but I did as she wished anyway. The light of the fire flickered low over the trunks of the surrounding trees. I snuggled into my futon, waiting for her to join me.

When she slid into bed, I turned around in excitement. “Mama, you’ll be fine. You won’t have to stay with the warriors anymore. And I did it all! I—“

“Ssh, Tamae.”

Her softly spoken words silenced me. Confused but happy, I shoved the covers under my chin as I watched her lend her arm to cushion my head. I snuggled closer, looking up adoringly into my mother’s gentle dark eyes.

Those eyes had always been above me, ever since I was a little baby. Soft and dark eyes, like the black stones that lined the stream that I leaped over. Warm breasts that had nursed me and been my pillow those uncountable nights when I tossed and turned and cried. The calloused and gentle hands that cradled my cheek when I hurt myself. The constant, loving presence that had been my stolid rock when I was bullied, spat at, shunned for being half-Oni.

 _Mama._ I felt a wash of calmness come over me at just the thought of the name.

I closed my eyes and cuddled deeper into her kimono. Her hand went to gently stroke my hair, less distractedly than usual.

The fires were smothered, and the Oni retired to their beds. I was wide awake, excited about my victory, waiting to brag to my mother, but she kept stroking my hair in a facsimile of childhood affection. Her face was softened into a fond expression, but her eyes seemed to stare somewhere else.

“Tamae, I want you to know that I came to an agreement with Okaju Makaze. I will be his wife when we reach their city.”

My mouth dropped open. “What? You’re marrying Okaju? Why? Did you offer to? He’s an Oni, Mama! He—“

“He said he would take care of you and Akahiko. You’ll have a good life here, Tamae, don’t worry. The Oni care about you. They think you’re one of them.”

“No! Mama, I just had a talk with Okaju, he said he would send you back, to their—city or whatever, and I’ll take care of you there. I’ll get to be a warrior or something, or a handmaiden to a _hime,_ if we go back there by ourselves—“

“Tamae, what’s done is done. I have made the decision; it is final. I will not go back on my word.”

Her voice was tired, not willing to argue any more. I fell into sullen silence. I angrily nestled my face into her warm chest and huffed. Her hands went to embrace my shoulders, pulling me against her and cradling me in her arms. She held me tighter than usual, and I wriggled uncomfortably. She regrettably loosened her shoulders.

We lay as we did for a long while, our breaths coming in deeply in the silent night. The sky above was midnight blue, sparkled with stars like fireflies. It reminded me of when Kaemi and I used to sneak out and play in the forest. We would play for hours, and then lay side by side, holding hands and watching the pale moon through the thick branches.

Mama had rolled onto her back too. She gazed upwards, her face soft and gentle, the Mama I had always known. After a while, her face placid and unreadable, she said, “My whole life has been a mistake.”

She said it factually, as if it were a well-known fact. Her voice was strangely honest, but raw, as if she had been waiting to let out those words for years.

“What do you mean, Mama?”

“I had so many prospects, Tamae. I had so much of my life in front of me. When I was a young woman, everybody loved me. But when I became unclean, I…”

Her voice trailed off again.

When it returned, it had a hard edge, but her eyes had not changed, and her shoulders were limp.

“When I gave birth, I had… I had thought that I would be able to bear it. After all, I was home again. I was not in Oni lands, and I had you, I had Sakue, I had little Kaemi…and Mareko, and Emie, and Kaeko to help me…”

“Kaeko, the midwife? Who is Mareko?” I frowned and pursed my lips.

I had heard the name Mareko before. Mama had mentioned it to me once, a long time ago, as one of the women she used to shell rice with. But other than that she was a ghost, an unmentioned name and an empty place in the house, like the women named Emie and Kaeko.

Mama continued, as if she didn’t hear me. “But one by one, they all left me. The ones I grew up with, the ones I loved so much, the ones I had played with… gossiped with, slept side by side with…they left me alone in my empty house, one after another.”

In the light of the moon, I saw silver trickle down her soft round cheeks, even as her dark eyes stared blankly ahead.

“Forcing smiles at me as they walked out the door, leaving me to cradle my little half-breed baby in my arms. Frowning and shaking their heads at me when I was out of sight. _Oh, poor Misayo, forever doomed to never marry. Poor Misayo who came back broken, forced to raise the enemy’s bastard. Poor Misayo-hime, thank the gods I am not her.”_ Her voice was a sad mockery of a high woman’s voice, tinged with the bitterness of years of doubt.

“The villagers stopped laughing and trading with me. _The scum of my womb,_ they called you. _The Oni’s whore,_ they called me. They looked at with me with such hostile eyes.”

I lowered my eyes, cuddling deeply against her side, clutching her kimono tight in my small fists. Her confession spilled across the empty camp.

”Danjirou became a husband to a city woman, he left us in the countryside. He won’t even look me in the eyes anymore. My own brother thinks I am a disgraced woman. They all abandoned me. _All of them.”_

Her voice finally cracked, and she rolled over, her head hunched. She was shaking so hard I wondered if she was crying.

“And now I am becoming the wife of the man who killed my father. I suppose I’ll have to go back to the Oni court…live sumptuously, as I always have, all my needs tended to… just without Mother and Sakue…forced to live with the enemy again, the ones who pillaged my land, raped me, slaughtered my father. The Oni...”

The fiery hatred in her voice was growing stronger. She hoisted her body up on her elbow, eyes black and livid. “If the entirety of the Oni had but one neck, then I would be the one to slice it open!”

“Mama!” I blurted out, wriggling out of her grip long enough to cradle her face in my hands. “You don’t—I mean, I love you, but…if you want to go home, then I can take care of myself. The Oni said I’m a grown woman.”

“And then?” she gave a mirthless laugh. “Live out the rest of my life always wondering and worrying about you? Never meeting you again? Never knowing what happened to you? Just going home and waiting to die?”

For a few moments there was silence that stretched on for an eternity. I was faintly aware of the murmurs of Oni men all around us, ignoring us in their separate conversations, like the faint buzzing of crickets, in another world entirely.

"You were the only reason, Tamae. The only reason I withstood it, the only reason I pushed ahead, my only baby, my only daughter."

Her voice was silent and soft, loving and despairing.

“I’m so tired. Tamae, I loved you and I tried to be a good mother. I tried so hard. But they never accepted you, did they? You were always _the enemy’s bastard._ Even I—sometimes, I—thought the same myself. I could have tried harder. But I didn’t. And now you’re— _you’re one of them now.”_

Her last words were nothing more than a whisper, but laced with a faint trembling that tore into my heart. I felt tears prick my eyes. “No. No, I’m not. I’m a human, like you, and I’ll always be. I promise. I—“

 

 

“I have nothing left, Tamae. Not even you.”

Mama’s last words sunk into my mind like black tar, her hard hatred crumbling into quiet, blank despair with those few words.

We lay side by side for a while, a disgraced woman and her bastard. Her fingers curled softly around my face, the soft grip the one of a mother who had brushed her daughter’s tears away many times and cradled her face when she was happy.

I heard a shifting of sheets and Mama abruptly stood up. I sat up, watching as she straightened her kimono and tucked and smoothed back her night-black hair against the sides of her head.

“Where are you going, Mama?”

“I’m going to take a walk, Tamae. I shall be gone rather a long time. Just lay down and get some rest, baby. Mama will be back before dawn.”

Still unsatisfied, I lay back down, but turned so that I could see her stepping away, delicately ringing her way through the throng of sleeping soldiers on the ground.

She reached the vast forest, stretching far beyond my imagination, a dark sea of trees, and then she paused.

Mama half-turned back so that the firelight flickered off her profile, off her long, crooked nose, off the softness of her face and the darkness of her eyes. The face so familiar to me, I saw it even when I closed my eyes.

Then she turned and walked into the forest.

The last image I had of my mother was of her faded kimono disappearing into the darkness, the blanket of black swallowing her up like a candle flame snuffed out.


End file.
